COL.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  FLOWERS 
MEMORIAL  COLLECTION 


DUKE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
DURHAM,  N.  C. 


PRESENTED  BY 

W.  W.  FLOWERS 


THE   RIVALS: 


\    CHK  KAHQMINY   STOEY. 


I$v  Miss  M.  .r.  Ug 

OF   TIEfilNU. 


II-U'S  T  X*  A  T  E  D 


I!  1(1!  MUNI): 
AYRES     <5g     \VA  13  K 


-.  If. 

THE    RIVALS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

N<  ifternooo,  twodroys  we*e  trteriog.aloi     I 

nam.      ;i   .  through  a  dense  oak  I  from  the  old 

Was!  smy.a  very  venerable,  if  uot  a  very  i   n  iwned  s  ut  of  {earning, 

in  tin-  enmity     •  r!,o  arm  ofeaeh  was  t!  rown  over  the  neck  of  the 

.other.:  i  :  nanner  so  common  toll  ular 

Irion  1  mi  open  letter,  a  passage  in-  w  -lnr- 

>ng  out  to  t!  I»m  the  letter  evidently  b<  ably 

icetul  figure,  regular  an  '.  aristocratic  <  pala 

:  eyes.      But  although   in 

i  to  the  laws  of  beauty,  yet  from  t  ■  out- 

thi    otherwise  fjiir  index,  some  things  ;     i  than 

-  beautifully  chiseled  featui  s.      fhere  •  ■  -  about   th* 

large,  o  ■  brow,  an  expression  < > T  r<   erve  and  cauti  in   a! 

tic  head,  and  the  curve  of  the  thin,  ] 
■•  in  its  excess,  and  the  Ime  of  the  thin,  red  lips,  th< 
:    ingied  cynicism   and  egotism   rather   u 
oth  r  ■  shadowy,  mystical  |  i  i  tho 

count  in  faint — the  youth  was  but  seven  e-.m — i 

mar.  i  of  color  and  proportion  indelibly  starrij  ;  and 

universal  verdict  was  that  Walter  Maynard  was  a  v.-ry  ban  . 
yout   . 

Ti.      i  ooHjr  inspecting  the  more  athletic,  bnt  !   is  per  ical 

figure,  and  tl  \r,  though  more  manly  features 

Charloy  Kostei  1  have  pronounced  them  less  beautiful  than  tho>  ibed; 

this  Would,  ict  of  the  superficial  a 

nrti.st     1  .  looked   beyond   the  inferior  m  pmlities  of 

form  ice*,  or  deformities  which  an-  capable  of 

a  magieaUj  ch  a  repulsive  cloud  rauld 

liavc  )  rotJOD  ire  light  of  intellect  which  illi 

l**n  ,  and  nearly  so  in  kind:  but  those  mJbtal  qualil 

goto     irmtri  I  man,  had  been  distributed  bet-. i  them   by  Prorid 

with  a  vie  than  unity.  and  clear,  dark 

I  beamed  with  candor  and  s  about  his  ral 

• 
in  hi*  Hv  s  was  just  enough  of 

■s;  and  his  fr.ini;.  cordial  m  irted 

;ravity  and  reticence  i 

b  ith  admired  and  beluaed. 


218334 


4  THE  RIVALS: 

When  they  had  proceeded  a  short  distance,  they  paused  under  a  huge  oak  tre*»,  wli 
stood  immediately  on  the  roadside,  and  Charley  threw  himself  on  tin*  grass  at  its  ; 
and  resting  the  elbow  which  supported  his  head  on  its  mossy  root,  ex  -laimed — 

•  And  so,  Walter,  yon  are  going  to  be  a  soldier  ?' 

'Yes,'  replied  Walter,  seating  himself  beside  him, 'so  it  seems;  my  aunt  Kmeline 
writes,  yon  sec,  that  my  great  uncle,  Horace  Maynard,  who  has  charitably  undertakers 
my  edocitini.  that  I  might  not  disgrace  the  family  by  my  ignorance,  h»s  procured  uu 
au  appointment  to  the  West  Point  Military  Academy.' 

'  Well,'  pursued  Charley,  without  noticing  the  slightly  ironical  tone  in  which  a  par: 
of  his  friend's  reply* was  delivered.  '  1  should  not  have  thought  of  yo -:t  being  a  soldier. 
You  are  brave  and  ami  iti  us  enough,  to  be  sure,  but  I  do  not  think  yui  have  the  reck- 
less daring  and  love  of  adventure  one  naturally  associates  with  the  members  of  the  mili- 
tary  profession,  In  my  mind,  I  had  deemed  upon  the  law  for  hot!)  of  us,  and  I  tl 
Walter,  that  you  have  soma  qualities  which  peculiarly  lit  you  fur  the  legal  calling:  1 
thought,  too,  that  the  law  was  your  choice.' 

'  Beggar.--  should  not  and  certainly  cannot  be  choosers,'  replied  Walter,  bitterly.     '  You 
forget,  Charlej',  that  1  am-an  orphan,  and  poor:  that  my  father  and  grandfather  spent, 
their  lives  in  squandering  the  princely  estate  their  ancestors   had  accumulated,  leaving 
me  an  old  name  and   an  empty  purse;  that  I  am  dependent  upon  my  aunts,  w.uo  hfiva 
reared  me,  and  upon  my  great-uncie,  who,  purely  from  family  pride,  has  charged  him- 
self with  my  education,  arid  am  compelled  to  submit  to  their  direetio'i.     This  military 
scheme  has  enabled  uncle  Horace,  with  his  usual  address,  •■  to  kill    two  birds  with  ooa( 
htoue."     I  will  go  bo  the  academy  as  a  kind  of  pensioner,  to  be  snub  bod  and  jeered  rtt 
by  the  wealthy  cadets,  and  therefore  my  expenses  wilt  be  to  him  moons  lerable,  while  t 
will  be  obtaining  a  good  education  and  an  honorable  profession  ;  and  if  1  contrive  to  go:- 
through  with  credit,  I  will  doubtless  geta  lieulenantcy  in  the  army,  v  inch  will  pay  about 
as  well  as  a  third-rate  .  ierkship  in  some  mercuntile  establishment  and  keep  me  cot 
ip  in  a  marine  fortress,  or  bauished  to  the  wild  frontier  during  the  whole  of  my  w« 
life,  like  some  unfortunate  state  prisoner  or  political  exile.' 

'You  paint  a  gloomy   picture  of  it,'  said  Charley.     'If  you  object  to  the  schema 
er,  oppose  it  nt  once".     If  you  are  young,  you  have  a  righi  trd  in  a  matto 

bf  such  importance  to  yourself.     If  you  prefer  some  other  calling,  my  father  will,  1  know. 
lend  yon  any  amount  of  money  necessary  to  pursue  it  for  my.  sake.' 

'  Oh.  no,'  replied  Walter,  quickly  ;  '  I  could  r.ot  think  ol  such  a  thing.  It  is  too  hu- 
miliating to  be  in  debt.  I  liud  it  bitter  enough  to  be  under  obligations  to  those-  from 
whom  i  have  a  rigid  fo  expect  favors,  ever  to  consent  to  accept  them  from  those  upon 
whom  1  have  no  claim.  Besides,  the  plan  you  propose  is  rather  to)  uncertain,  It 
would  take  a  large  sum  to  enable  me  to  graduate  in  law  or  medicine,  and  then  I  might 
not  succeed.  Or  if  1  should  ultimately  succeed,  either  profession  would  not  be  immedi- 
ately seli-supporting,  while  that  which  uncle  Horace  has  chosen  for  me  '.'.'ill  he.  Ai 
the  military  profession  is  not  lucrative,  it  is  certainly  very  honorable,  and  in  my  case 
very  sure.  Vou  know  the  army  \s  almost  universally  chosen  for  the  younger  sou  of  the 
British  nobility,  and  is  patronized  by  the  first  families  in  Virginia.' 

'  Very  true,'  was  the  response,  '  I  dare  say  that  with  your  pride,  the  glory  will  quite 
outweigh  the  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life.  You  know  that  all  the  big  meu  of  history 
were  soldiers.  Who  knows,  Walter,  but  that  you  may  be  another  Ca*sar,  or  Napoleon, 
loading  powerful  armies,  and  dazzling  the  world  with  your  skillfully  planned  campaigns 
and  brilliant  victories.' 

•Nonsense!  said  Walter,  laughing.  'Promotion  is  rather  slow  iu  our  army  ;  3nd 
even  if  1  possessed  the  talents  of  a  Caesar,  or  a  Napoleon,  I  would  scarcely  have  an  op- 
portunity to  display  them.  Dou't  you  know  that  Mr.  Heed  told  us,  only  this  afternoon 
in  our  history  class,  that  so  far  as  human  foresight  could  penetrate,  America  seemed 
doomed  to  yens,  perhaps  centuries,  of  unbroken  peace;  that  the  Monroe  doctrine,  which 
had  become  the  established  policy  of  our  government,  would  secure  us  forever  against  eu- 

■ 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  5 

tanglcments  with  foreign  nations,  while  the,  extent,  the  weal:';  aiid"  power  of  our  country 
would  enable  us  to  control  our  feebler  neighbors  on  this  Continent.' 

'  Ye?,'  observed  Charley  ;  '  bur,  have  you  forgotten  what  We  were  pleas  d   to  term  the 

idiosv ncracy  of  Mr.  Heed's  French  friend,  Monsieur  Boesieux,  whovtsjtcd  hioi  last  year? 

Ho  declared,  Vbll  kno\V",'tbat  the  American  people  were  treading  on  a  voli'MiO  ;  that  thfl 

t  extent  of  out  territory,  arid  the  wide  diversity  <»f  opinion  and  interest  between  too 

r  el  its  different  sections,  would  inevitably  lead  to  dbronUou  and  revolution  ;  anil 

I  boldly  predicted    I  ctiuji.:  1  animosities,  so   ajppai'     r    to     1    foreigner,  would 

w  their  bitter  fruits  in  intestine  war  before  the  present  gi      ration  should  be  yatheroi: 

t  .  their  fathers.'  •  * 

1  Pshaw  !' "exclaimed  voting  Maynard  contemptuously,  '  w!y"  does  \  Frenchman  know 
about  American  politics  V   HoWever,  we  can  pardon  his  error  if  his  opiniori  of  government 
-  founded  on   French  Listory,  and  his  views  of  human  nature  are  derived  from    tho 
contemplation  of  Hkj  French  character,     lint  we  Ami  macleof  nraiur  material. 

it  would  be  ridiculous  to  compare  tire  glorious  republic  established  by  pur  •■>  - n i. \-  reyo- 
to  tho  monstrous  abortion  brought  threes  of 

itless   revolution  of  France,  and    il  is  0  1  '  •-■   ri  ooinpare 

-  uis,  who  arc  charged  with  the  maictenanc    artd  1   mbi  of  Our  jJQvesniMe.uli,  to  tho 
ignorant  and  fren  '.icd  rabble  wh  1  attempted  the  same  experim  at  in  M.  I'>  issjeux's  coiw- 
Iry,  an  i  failed.     Ho  saw  with  a  Frenchman's  eye,  and  judged  with  a  Frenchman;'*  judg- 
ment- a-?/;:»_.--  ■  '  'i  I)  ■  .',  tctiotl  was  going  0  e  was  misled   by  the 
violence  of  p                     uent;                   in  is  now  over,  ami  -         (foundry  quiet 
ouutry  is. 
'Yep,1  said   Charley,  'and   very   probably  if  he  is  in  America   now   he  has  already 
1  his  mind.     What  is  that  beautiful  figure,  Walter,  of  the  tamons  Druid's  stone 
pmstd  that  it  may  be  rocked  to  its  very  eefllBfl  by  the  touch  of  an 
'.  tli"  e.oml  i  n  ',        ngth  <»f  an  acrny  of  .  t.  .-:  g  rnbu  cannot  overt!) 
appropriate  it  is  to  our  gnvenjmenl 
Tims  tiis  ■                  ese  sage  philosophers' and   profound  \  iliticians  of  seventeen*;  and 
they  bat]  done  discussing  tl                  f  the  nation.  th,\  r  turned Agftiu  to  their  own, 
and  took  up'- the  subject  of  Walter's   future   prospects  in  his  :out\ 
Naturally  enough,  their  favorite  heroes  among  the  military  character*  of  history  were 

r  campaigns  and   battles  gone  o?er,  and  their  relative  merits  dticussed)  . 

until   the   two  youths   grew  quite  enthusiastic   in  praise  of  a  military  career.     Charley 

tial  spirit  wis  fully  aroujed  in  him,  and  that  ho  felt  quite  as  bel- 

.  if  after  going  to  Pole  Gr<  ;u  to  muster  and  drinking 

Ct  quart  or  so  of  moan  whiskey,  he  was  lighting  the  battle  of  Yen<t,,u  n  over  for  tour  d 

(:i  the  ardor  of  I  nt  he  determined  to  accompany  Ids  friend  to  West  IViut,  if  ids 

■  insert t  to  it,  and   be  a  soldier  too, 

Juatatthi  v.ts  attracted  by  the  trami'ing  of  hoofs  b<!.i!:d  them, 

'king  in  ti  at  direction  they  saw  a  beautiful  apparition  emerging  from  the  deep 

It  was  that  of  a  dainty,  fairy-like,  girlish  figure  sitting 

I  illy  upon  n  small  white  poDy.     By  her  side,  on  a  larger  horse  of  dark  c  dor,  rodo 

a  large,  homely  ami  awkward  boy,  to  whose"  linen  roundeb  nt,  a  pretty,  timid-looking 

little  fellow,  who  wag  riding  behind  him.  clung  nervously  as  he  urged  the  horsa  to  a  brisk 

g  dlop  to  keep  up  with  the  rapid  pace  of  the  little  lady's  white  palfrey.    A  negro  groom, 

b  encuml  1  real  With  satchels  and  carpet-bags,  brought  up  the  rear  of  the  cavalcado. 

'It  is  Nellie  and  Bernard  Gardiner  going  home,  and  Bob  II  ar  ism  is  i;--'\n^  with  them,' 

Charley. 
The   two  boys  had  arisen  on   the  approach  of  the  party,  but  absorbed  in   watching 
Nellie's  splendid  horsemanship,  and  looking  at  her  pretty  face  and  figure   they  had  for-' 
gotten  to  move   ■■    d  ■,  ai   '    toad  in  a  position  to  slightly  obstruct  the" road. 

way,  fellows,'  cried  Uobett  Harrison  rudely  and  imperiously,  bearing 
11  upon  them. 


218334 


(j  THE  RIVALS: 

They  stepped  aside  instantly,  and  politely  touched  their  lints  to  the  youug  lady,  while 
an  angry  flush  mantled  Walter's  dork  cheek,  and  a  smile,  half  amused  and  half  contemn* 
tuously,  parted  dharle^'e  flexile  lips. 

Nellie  gracefully  retnrned  their  salutation, and  said  reproachfully  as  they  swept  hy,  '  0,. 
Cousin  Robert,  what  makes  you  bo  rude?' 

When  they  had  passed,  Charley,  who  stood  looking  after  the  girl  with  his  whole  heart 
in  his  eyes,  observed  to  his  friend,  i  Nellie  is  a  pretty  little  thing.' 

'  Yes.'  replied  Walter,  regarding  her  retreating  figure  with  a  look  half  admiring,  half 
speculative,  'very  pretiy.  But  she  will  be  still  prettier  when  she  gets  older  ;  and  she 
will  he  quite  a  belle,  I  expect;  for  they  say  she  is  worth  fifty  thousand  dollars  indepen- 
dently of  her  mother,  who  is  wealthy.' 

'  lbw  unlike  she  and  Boh  Harrison  arc  for  cousins,'  remarked  Charley.   * 

'Very  unlike,'  was  the  response.  '  Bob  Harrison  is,  undoubtedly,  the  most  conceited, 
pompons  and  purse-proud  fool  that' ever  lived.  I  intend  to  let  him  sec  that  1  am  not 
to  1  e  treated  «  ith  contempt  by  him.  if  he  does  happen  to  be  rich  while  I  am  poor.  When 
next  he  finds  occasion  to  accost  me  it  must  be  in  terms  wore  respectful  than  those  he 
Used  jnst  now.' 

'  Fiddlesticks  !'  said  Charley,  '  who  Cares  for  what  Bob  Harrison  docs?  Vc  is  beneath 
the  contempt  of  a  sensible  body.  His  airs  of  superiority,  taken  in  eonjiiction  with  Ids 
real  and  apparent  inferiority,  make  him  appear  so  ridiculous  that  I  am  more  inclined 
to  laugh  at  than  he  angry  with  him.' 

•  O.  vmi  can  afford  to  be  philosophical,'  replied  his  friend,  'yon  are  his  <  [oal  in 
wealth'.'. 

'  But  not  in  birth.'  said  Charley,  smiling,  '  at  least,  according  to  his  standard.  The 
honorable  Mr.  Harrison  thinks  me  as  much,  or  more  his  inferior  than  he  esteems  you  to 
be.  Have  v«tii  forgotten  the  ineffable, and  unutterable  contempt,  with  which  he  railed  out. 
en  one  occasion  when  I  had  received  at  the  hand:  of  our  school-mates  f-  h.*nOf 

which  he  i  nnsidtred  due  to  his  super-cm  in  eYit  station  and  abilities,.'  Charles  . 
ecu  of  ■•'  Ci  rpi  .  * 

•  Wei'/  remarked  Walter.  '  if  your  father  is  a'earpenter  he  has  made  a  large  fortune 
honestly  at  the  trade,  and  he  has  won  an  enviable  position  in  the  community  hy  h\s  en- 

Aergy.  strong  sense  and  strict  integrity.     No  man  in  the  county  possesses  the  rev!,,    ■  and 
coi  'fid. 'tice  of  his  fellow-citizens  t(j<rh*gher  degree.     You   have  nothing  to  be  ashamed 

•  of  in  him  ' 

1  T"  he  ashamed  of.  repeated  Charley,  warmly  ;  '  I  reckon  not...  It  would  take  n  great 
deal  to  make  me  ashamed  of  my  own  father.  1  hope  he  may  never  have  any  more  cause 
to  1  e  ashamed  of  me  than  I  have  to  be  ashamed  of  him.' 

'  Halloa  !  there  boys  we've  b.en  looking  for  you  for  an  hour,' cried  some  of  their  school- 
mates. 'approaching  from  the  academy.  •  You've  missed  all  the  fun.  The  gir's  got  around 
Mr.  aid  Mrs;  Beed  after  school,  and  teased  them  om.  of  th  ir  consent-  to  have  th»  4th  of 
Jnl'v  ball  we'd  all  been  talking  about.  They've  agreed  to  give  up  tons,  after  the  exam- 
ination, the  srhdoi-roon.s  and  parlor  and  dining-room. and  let  ns  arrangeeverythinsr  as  we 
wish.  We're  to  have  fire-w.-rks  and  d  inciii"  ;  and  Mr.  Reed  has  promised  to  show  US  the 
Magic  Lantern,  and  all  sorts  of  curious  and  pretty  chemical  experiment?,.' 

•  Qniti-  a  medley.'  said  Walter,  smiling  sarcastically,  at  what  he  thought  the  childish 
entbn^om  of  the  speaker 

•  Indeed.'  said  Charley,  manifesting  a  cordial  interest  in  the  subject,  '  tell  me  all  about 
it.     1  em  sorry  T  Was  not  there.'  v 

'  0.  there  is  Hot  much  to  tell,  besides  what  1  have  already  told.'  replied  the  boy.  •  There 
Will  be  a  meeting  Monday  morning  before  school,  to  arrange  the  programme  of  the  en- 
tertninment  ;  and  if  yon  int.  nd  to  take  part  in  it,  Foster,  yell  had  better  get  your  cash 
"* ready  ;  for  we  will  have  to  fork  up  to  the  y««nng  ladies  then,  and  after  the  collections  are 
ma'c  they  will  deternfi'ne,  with  Mrs.  Reed's  assistance,  what  part  of  the  funds  must  go 
for  the  fire-works  and  what  nart  for  refreshments.'  * 


A  OHIOEAHOMINY  STORY.  ,  ^ 

'  Let  me  see  what  money  I  have/  paid  Charley.  '  I  have  been  rather  extravagant  this 
quarter,  and  fear  I  haven't  much,  and  I  would  not  like  to  go  to  my  father  for  more,  as  his 
allowance  is  so  liberal.'  Tben  taking  out  bis  purse  be  counted  the  coin  out  upon  his  left 
palm  in  quite  a  business-like  manner. 

He  cou  nted  ten  dollars  and  a  few  cents.  '  That  will  do,' said  one  of  the  boys;  '  I  heard 
Bob  Harrison  any  be  meant  to  give  ten  dollars.' 

'  l>o,  pray,  Charley,'  said  a  little  boy  of  the  party,  'if  Bob  Harrison  is  going  to  give 
ten  dollars,  you  try  to  give  twenty  just  to  fn  .  him  and  make  him  ashamed  ;  he  thinks 
himself  so  much  richer  than  anybody  else.' 

'  If  1  had  as  much,  and  it  was  necessary,  Jim,  I  would  willingly  give  it  to  contribute 
to  the  amusement  of  the  scholars,'  replied  Charley,  '  but  not  fjr  the  purpose  of  fretting 
Bob  Harrison  ;  he  finds  enough  to  fret  at  without  my  assistance  ;  and  if  I  should  attempt 
any  experiment  upon  his  disposition  it  would  be  to  mike  it  more  amiable.' 

After  this  little  dialogue,  the  hoys  separated,  the  new  comers  to  go  iu  search  of  whor- 
tleberries, and  C  I  Walter  to  return  to  the  academy. 

When  they  were  alone,  Charley  remarked  to  his  friend,  'I  am  glad  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Beed  have  that    we  may  have  the  ball.     I  expect  to  enjoy  it  jinwly ;  don't 

you  ?' 

'I  care  v'<  •••  little  for  such  things,  and  do  not  expect  to  remain  to  it.,'  was  the  reply. 

•Fie  !'  said  Charh  y,  '  you  should  not  be  so  unso  i  >ble.  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  end 
by  becoming   i  misanthrope.' 

'It  is  not  that  lam  unsociable,'  replied  Walter,    'hut  between  me  and  every  social 
pleasure  my  curse  1  poverty  is  constantly  coming  in.     Often  when  you  wish  me 
a  visi;  with  you,  I  am  compelled  to  declim  ny  every  dav-clojhea  are  not  "ood 

enough  to  wear,  and  I  dare  not  wear  my  single  Sunday  suit  so  often,  for  fear  of  wearing 
it  out       A  prs  are  giving  ten  dollars  apiece 

to  this  bill,  h  (hold  the  munificent  donation  I  am  prepared  t>>  make^     S<>  saying,  he  put 
wn  in  his  pocket  ah  ilitary  ten  cent  piece,  which  he  laid 

^n  ™"  iy  morning  comes,  f  shall  he  ;:1 

from  the  conf)  n  nCe  an  I  ■  i  shf  one  of  Bob  Harrison's  impertinence  when  niv 

nanv  :    called,  -  pt  which  the  v  nteoances 

will  express  when  it  it  that  I  am  riot  able  to  contribute  to  the  general 

pleasure.     Char]  ider  that  I  am  unsociable?'      * 

'  Walter.'  said  Charley,  deeply  moved,  '  you  h  •  ■•  ir  misfortune  too  hard  ;  and  you 
are  to  >  proud.  Why  will  you  not  let  me  help  you  ?  I  have  a  plenty  for  us  both  ;  and 
it  wo  ild  give  me  mo;.  to  share  what  I  have  with  you  than  to  spend  itentirelv 

on  m 

1  Come,  Charley  Foster.'  was  the  reply,  '  you  know  that  you  have  already  loaded  me 
with  presents  which  were  offered  with  so  much  delicacy  and  tact  that  I  did  not  know 
how  to  refuse  them.  I  have  quite  a  respectable  little  library,  bearing  on  the  fly  leaf  of 
each  nd  volume,  "To  W.ilter  Mnynard  from  his  attached  friend  C.  F  "• 

also  a  valuable  gun    and  many  little  things  of  lens  value.     Yod  have  mfver  insulted  me 
yet  '  me  ;  "  ney.and  I  hope  you  nei'crwill  ;  but  you  have  cunningly  c oMtrf ved 

on  ni  to  cover  my  apparent  parsimony  and   real    povertv  over  with  your 

2C'"  ''  expenditure.     If  yon  have  forgotten  these  things  I  have  not,  nor 

will    I  ever.     If  my  voice  should  c\  !  to* den  miice  yon    I  prav  thai 

n»*>  fail  m    i         er ,  and  if  my  hand  sho  ild  ever   be  lifted  against  you.  1  trust  that  it 
may  be  stricken  fr<>m  my  shoulder.'  ' 

S'lch  wai  th,nnd  I  might  -add  generms  emotion,  was  very  unusual  with  younc 
Mayi  •  xhibition  surprised  and  on  rfntrongly.     '  All  this  is'noth- 

in^  friend's  hand.     'lvalue  your  friendship  far  a  bo  vo 

8Uc|  money  and  property,  and  would* delight  in  rendering  more  sub* 

Stan  .' 


THE  RIVALS: 


CHAPTER  II. 


*  Monday  morning  fp.uncl  the  whole  school,  composed  of about  a  dozen  boarders 
and  twice  as  many  day  scholars,  assembled  in  the  girls'  school-room  to  discuss 
the  subject  of  the  contemplated  fete,  and  arrange  the  programme  of  the  evening. 

Bob  Harrison,  who-:-  native  impudence  stood  him  in  need  of  many  a  better 
quality  usually  considered  'essential  to  success  among  nun.  had  contrived  to 
make  himself  chairman  of  the  meeting;  and  seated  in  a  Urge  arm-chair  upon 
the  estrade,  with  an  air  of  dignity  and  self-importance  very  disproportionate  to 
the  occasion,  one  pen  thrust  in  the  mass  ot  whitish-yellow  hair  behind  his  ear, 
'and  another  awkwardly  suspended  between  his  thumb  and  fore-finger,  cut  a 
most  ridiculous  figure  Charley  Foster^  at  no  great  distance,  witli  a  dry  smile 
of  quiet  amusement  on  his  eounteuanee,  was  slyly  making  a  skeUh  of  him  in 
his  Latin  exercise  book,  for  the  benefit  of  Walter  Maynard,  who  was  the  only 
one  of  Mr.  Reed's  pupils  absent  on  this  interesting  occasion. 

After  having  brought,  the  meeting  to  order,  the  chairman  proposed  that  .the 
roll  should  be  called,  and  that  each  one  in  answering  to  his  name  should  men- 
tion the  sum  he  or  she  desired  to  contribute  to  the  proposed  ball,  said  name  and 
sum  to  be  immediately  recorded  by  the  secretary.  To  this  proposition  no  ob- 
jection was  made  and  he  proceeded  with  the  measure.  When  Charley's  name 
was  called,  he  answered  promptly,  and  named  five  dollars  as  the  amount  of  his 
contribution.  At  this  announcement,  the  august  chairman  elevated  hi<  heavj 
eye-brows,  and  glancing  significantly  around  the  room,  with  a  supercilious  smile, 
said  something  iitan  audible  whisper  to  the  secretary  about  'not  expecting 
blood  out  of  a  turnip." 

Charley's  fine  face  flushed,  .and  his  merry  cyescemiftcd  an  angry  Hash,  but  ii 
was  but  momentary  ;  the  -cone  struck  him  as  so  ludicrous  that  involuntarily 
he  burst  into  a  laugh  of  derision,  in  which  the  whole  school,  except  Nellie  Gar- 
diner, joined.  She  was  too  ashamed  and  indignant  at  her  cousin's  conduct  to 
feel  like  merriment;  ami  fixing  her  beautiful  eyes  earnestly  on  his  countenance, 
said  in  her  soft,  sweet  voice  : 

'  Cousin  Robert,  how  can  you  be  so  rude  :  ' 

Totally  unabashed  by  this  demonstration,  and  maintaining  unmoved  his  im- 
posing dignity,  the  chairman  called  the  meeting  to  order,  and  went  on  calling 
the  roll.  Everything  now  went  on  quietly  until  Walter  Maynard  \s  name  was 
called,  when  some  officious  body  called  out.  '  Absent.' 

'Aha!'  exclaimed  Mr.  Harrison,  with  a  knowing   look,  '  we  all  under.-; 
the  gentleman.' 

•  Thoroughly  aroused  at  this  indignity  offered  to  his  friend,  Charley  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and  said  hastily:  -  Waiter  is  preparing  his  Creek  for  recitation:  it  was 
inconvenient  for  him  to'be  present, -and  he  commissioned  me  to  act  for  him. 
Write  five  dollars  opposite  his  ijame ;  I  will  hand  it  in  with  mine,  to  the  secre- 
tary, at  the  close  of  the  meeting.'" 

•  After  this,  nothing  occurred  to  mar  the  general  harmony,  and  Mrs.  Reed 
coming  in  soon  after  to  assist  in  their  deliberations,  everything  was  satisfacto- 
rily adjusted. 

The  fourth  of  July  arrived  in  due  season,  though,  to  Mr.  Reed's  impatient 
pupils,  old  Time  seemed  to  halt  on  this  stage  of  his  journey.  The  school  exer- 
cises for  that  term  were  completed,  the  trying  examinations  were  over,  and  the 
delightful  bustle  of  preparation  for  the  fete,  which  had  afforded  so  many 
charming  episodes  to  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  academy,  was  ended. 


A  CHICK AIIOMTXV  STORY.  Q 

•  The  grounds  were  brilliantly  lighted  by  colored  lanterns,  ingeniously  con- 
structed of  wooden  frames,  covered  with  tissue  paper,  lump  among  the  boughs 
of  the  tree-.  The  school-room,  newly  white-Washed  and  scoured  for  the  occa- 
sion, and  Ornamented  with  garlands  of  dowers  and  evergreens,  was  sel  out. 
with  long  tables,  bearing,  in  the  most  tasteful  arrangement  imaginable,  a  sump- 
tuous repast.  And  the  parlor  and  dining-room  of  the  academy  building,  taste- 
fully adorned  with  vases  and  garlands  of  flowers,  and  appropriate  mottoes 
formed  of  evergreens,  were  prepared  for  dancing,  a  couple  of  negro  Tiddlers 
occupying  a  litle  platform  in  the  hall  between  the  doors  opening  into  each  room. 

The  young  gentlemen  of  the  academy,  and  many  of  their  friends  who  had  ar- 
rived early,  in  all  the  glory  of  their  best  broad-cloth  coats,  white- pants  ami 
vests,  and  kid  gloves,  were  standing  about  the  doors,  <  r  in  the  hall  and  parlors, 
awaiting  the  descent  of  the  charming  nymphs,  who,  in  an  animated  buz  of  con- 
versation and  laughter,  and  a  delightful  rustle  and  flutter  of  drapery,  were 
arranging  themselves  for  the  ball  in  the  dressing-rooms  up  stairs. 

What  charming  things  are  youth  and  beauty  —  or  even  tke  youth  without  the 
beauty!  For  what  does  one  care  for  beauty  when  the  rich  young  blood,  Un- 
parched  by  fever,  and  unchilled  by  age,  is  dancing  through  the  veins  to  tho 
rapid  measures  of  unheard,  but  not  unfelt  •  soul -music,  whose  iti spiriting  strains 
vibrate  with  intoxicating  rapture  upon  every  joyous  nerve;  when  the  fresh 
young  brain,  unia\ed  by  thought  or  care,  teems  with  quick  intuitions  and  joy- 
ous fancies:  and  when  the  bu  tyant  young  heart,  which  has  never  felt  ihe  dull, 
heavy  aching  of  anxiety,  or  the  paralyzing  grasp  of  fear,  hound, .in  a  joyous 
harmony  with  the  thrilling  pulses  through  days  of  unclouded  sunshine  and 
nights  of  soi\  slumber  and  heavenly  dreams!  How  intensely  do  the  young 
enjoy  the  pleasures  suitable  to  their  years !  yea.  how  intensely  do  they  enjoy 
everything  which  is  in  the  least  enjoj  abb-  !  And  how  refreshing  is  the  contem- 
plate Lu  happiness  to  their  elders,  whose  weary  heads  and  tried  h<  I 
robbed  by  time  ol  the  capacity  of  originating  joy,  are  forced  to  r  cerre  it  at  se- 
cond hand,  by  reflection',  as  it  were. 

Some  such  remark  as  this  Mr.  Heed  addressed  to  Mr.  Foster,  senior,  who 
standing  beside  him  in  one  of  the  parlors,  watching  his  son  and  several  other 
youths  arranging  for  a  dance  and  urging  the  musicians  to  strike  up  as  tke  sureBb 
method  of  hastening  the  advent  of  the  young  ladies.  They  were  indeed  an  an- 
imated and  merry  party.  Charley  was  radii  nt  with  happiness,  and  even  Wal- 
ter-, who  had  been  prevailed  en  by  his  friend  to  be  present,  showed  in  his  air 
and  manner  an  unrestrained  gayety  and  satisfaction  as  new  to  him  as  it  WAS.be>- 
coming.  He  was  indeed  looking  extremely  h  tndsoaae  and  good-natured.  For 
happinessisa  great  beautifier,  as  well  asa  great  moral  power.  Who  ever  thought 
a  happy  countenance  homely  :   or  what  happy  man  (  ver  committed  a  crime  ? 

Presently,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  impatient  young  gentlemen  in  attend- 
ance, there  was  a  Hotter  of  drapery  on  the  stairs,  which  announced  that  the 
girls  were  about  to  descend  to  the  parlors;  and  in  a  few  moments  they  hove 
in  sight,  preceded  by  certain  benign-loeking  mammas  and  aunts  who  had  como 
to  the  ball  professedly  to  give  character  and  propriety  to  the  entertainment,  but 
who  were  really  almost  as  much  interested  in  the  contemplated  amusement  as 
their  young  relatives  themselves.  And  \\  hen  the  pcoec  jsion  of  blushing,  smiling 
Hebes  at  length  entered  the  beautifully  decorated  rooms,  what  a  lovely  picture) 
thej*  made.  with  their  bright  eyes  and  coral  lips,  round  arms  and  snowy  ne 
How  beautiful  was  their  shining  hair,  wreathed  with  garlands  of  leaves  and  Buds. 
And  how  enptivatin  :  tin  ir  supple,  delicately-rounded  Ggures  looked  draped  in 
fleecy  muslin,  whose  snowy  whiteness  was  only  relieved  by  give 
of  pink  or  blue  ribbon. 


20  THE  RIVALS: 

The  foremost  in  this  galaxy  of  youth  and  beauty,  undoubtedly,  was  Nellie 
Gardiner.  So  Charley  decided  at  once,  and  be  whispered  as  much  to  Walter  as" 
arm-in-arm  they  started  to  join  her  on  tbe  other  side  of  the  room.  She  was 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  mother,  a  delicate,  elegant-looking  woman,  whose 
bearing  was  very  aristocratic,  and  whose  manners,  otherwise  affable  and  lady- 
like, were  tinged  with  haughtiness,  and  was  pointing  out  to  her  the  decora- 
tions. 

'There  is  the  Hag  you  made,  mamma,5  she  said,  pointing  to  the  mantel,  which 
was  ornamented  by  the  bust  of  Washington  draped  in  the  American  flap:.  The 
august  brow  of  the  Father  of  his  Country  was  crowned  with  laurel,  and  on  the 
wall  behind,  at  a  little  distance  above,  was  written  in  living  green,  'The  Amer- 
ican Union,'  while  a  rich  garland  of  English  ivy,  running  cedar,  and  tissue-paper 
roses,  enclosed  both  the  motto  and  the  bust.  Around  the  room  were  festoons 
of  flowers,  and  similarly  formed  mottoes  equally  patriotic  and  appropriate. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  was  admiringly  inspecting  and  approving,  when  our  young 
friends  approached.  Charley,  who  was  a -neighbor  and  a  particular  friend  of 
Bcnard's,  knew  her  well,  but  Waiter  had  to  be  introduced. 

She  received  her  son's  friend  very  graciously,  and  holding  out  her  hand  to 
WaHer,  said  : 

'lam  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,  as  I  know  many  of  your  family. 
Your  Uncle  Horace  is  a  particular  friend  of  mine;  and  T  also  know  your  aunts, 
though  I  have  not  met  with  them  recently.     Are  they  here  to-night-.*8 

'  My  Aunt  Emeline  is  present,'  said  Walter,  glancing  around  the  room,  'and 
will  be  pleased  to  meet  you.  There  she  is,  now,  entering  the  room  with  Mrs. 
Reed  ;  shall  I  bring  her  to  you  ?' 

'We  will  ?o  to  her,'  said  Mrs.  Gardiner,  with  a  smile,  and  leading  the  way. 
Miss  Emetine  Maynard   belonged  to  that  interesting  class  of  society  denomi- 
nated 'old  maids,'  and   was,  moreover,  one  of  the  most  exaggerated  specimens 
of  her  class.     What  was  her  age  it  is  impossible    10  say,  sir.-  (resting 

fact,  if  it  was  ever  recorded,  must  have  been  registered  among  the  Apocryphal 
books  of  the  family   bible,  it  was  so  very  i  uncertain.'     The   landmarks  which 
time  had  set  upon  her  face  and  figure,  were  utterly  ignored  and  stoutly  contra- 
dicted by  the  manners  and  costume  of  the  lady  herself.     In  hey  youth,  allowing 
that  to  have  passed,  she  must  have  possessed  a  certain  kind  of  beauty,  such   as 
is  constituted   by   plumpness  and    fairness   and   vividness  of  coloring  ;  but  the 
wear  and  tear  of  lift  had  greatly  impaired,  if  they  had  not  wholly  destroyed  it. 
Ther-  was  in  her  countenance  none  of  that  higher  order  of  beauty  begotten  of  a 
cultivated  and   elevated  mind   and  a  heart  warmed   by  the  noblest  and  gentlest 
affections  of  humanity;  for    Miss  Emeline's  thoughts  and  desires  wer.e  all   'of 
the  earth,  earthy.'     To  disguise  from   others  the  poverty  which  was  painfully 
and  constantly  'perceptible  to  herself,  and  to  secure  a. husband,  bad  been,  from 
her  early  years,  the  chief  end  and  aim  of  her  existence;  and  although  so  f«r  un- 
successful', vet,  with  a  diligence  and  perseverance  which, -if  ex- rted  in  a  belter 
cause,  would  doubtless  have  immortalized  her,  she  was  still  pursuing  the  same 
ends.     An    occasion   offering  such   opportunities   as   the  present,  did  not  ol'rcn 
present  itself  to  her,  and  she  was  making  the  most  of  it.      When   Mrs.  Gardiner 
approached  her,  she  was  standing  between  Mr.  Tomlin,  a  spry  widower,  whose 
two  daughters  were  among  the  academy  pupils,  and   Mr.  Sloan,  Mr.  Feed's  as- 
rf&nit    liviniinj!   1im-   (allow   neck  and   shaking   lit*  shadowy,  lustreless  rumlets   with 
as  many  coquettish  airs  and   -r.u-cs  as  a  girl  nf  six'cen.     Accustomed  though  she  was 
to  mh-'i   exhibitions,  Waller  cu'd  m>t   fail  to   be  disgusted,  and  a  shadow   passed  over 
bis  couiitemime  as  he  npprosiclterl   her.     She  was  fluttered   by   the  notice  of  a  lady  so 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  as  Mi's.  Gardiner,  and  for  a  moment  loosened  her  hold  on  the 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  j^ 

patience  and  politeness  of  the  gentleman,  who  took  advantage  cf  the  opportunity  to 
escape  to  the  viciaity  of  some  of  the  oldest  and  fairest  of  Mr.  Heel's  pupils. 

The  fire-works  were  to  be  exhibited  early  in  the  evening,  as  the  moan  would  mo 
later  and  its  beams  would  grcitly  mar  their  effect.  So,  as  soon  as  the  guests  were 
assembled,  the-signal  was  given,  when  the_y  all  repaired  to  the  p  >rches  and  groin  Is  to 
Witness  their  exhibition  When  Walter  had  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Gardiner  to  con- 
duct her  t<t  his  aunt,  Charley  had  very  gallantly  offered  his  to  Ndlie  for  a  prom  male; 
and.  therefore,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  conducting  her  t .»  a  rustic  seit  in  the  grove,  and 
remaining  there  with  her  for  an  hour  during  the  pyrotechnic  exhibition.  Walter,  who 
entertained- i.  particular  fondness  for  the  fair  sex,  and  whose  fastidious  taste  found 
something  to  object  to  in  every  one  of  his  young  lady  acquaintance*,  except  Ndlie, 
was  a  little  chagrined  at  this;  but  he  bad  made  Up  his  mind,  very  horoioa'l  v.  to  do 
his  duty  by  escorting  his  Aunt  Emetine,  when  C.airiey's  father  relieved  him  of  the 
unpleasant  necessity  by  offering  his  arm  to  Miss  Miynard. 

Foster  fits,  who  is  pretty  well  known  to  the  reader,  was  simply  a  revised  and  im- 
proved edition  of  Foster  pre.  who  is  just  being  introduced.  There  W*8  a  striking 
rescmUfnce  between;  them  in  face,  figure  and  carriage,  and  also  in  language  and  Win- 
ners except  that  the  superior  advantages  of  education  an  I  society  which  C  tarley  had 
enjoyed,  told  iu  his  favor.  Bit  though  the  early  years  of  the  elder  gmt!en\o  liad 
liper,  passed  in  decent  poverty  and  moderate  toil,  yet  about  him  there  wis  no  cnr.so- 
ness  or  rudeness  to  offend  the  mist  fastidious.  His  cole  of  etiquette,  suggested  by  a 
good  mind  arrfl  a  good  heart,  was  sufficiently  refined  to  pleise  in  mv  society,  ail  his 
Iflngu  <ure.  simple  and  terse,  was  generally  c  trreefc.  (lis  sioip'e,  innate  dignity,  straight- 
forward frankness,  and  unpretending  naturalness,  afforded  a  most  stri kin j  contrast  to 
Miss  l<>Mi'liii-*s  silliness  and  affectation. 

Fi'ding  himself  thus  pleasantly  relieved  of  the  care  of  his  aunt,  Wa'ter  setoff  to 
seek  Charlie  ami  Nellie,  and  s  jon  joined  them  in  the  grove. 

When  the  pyrotechnic  exhibition  was  ended,  the  dmcing  Comijeiced,  ail  ivas  con- 
tinue) m^o'ixI  Ii-mu-s.  aTt«r  which  suppsM"  was  served  ;  and  then  Mr.  II  ■■ a  I  exhibited 
the  Magic  1. intern,  Drnnmond  Light,  Sty  Altogether,  it  wis  a  chtmvng  eve ning, 
and  di'sf'ned  to  be  remembered  as  am  mg  the  hippiestin  the  Rvei  of  Several  of  tho 
personages  in  our  story. 

During  the  evening,  Charley  had  ox  traded  a  promise  from  Miss  Emetine  that  Wat- 
ter should  retnrn  hone  with  him  from  the  academy  and  spend  several  weeks  with  him. 
And  that,  lady,  pleased  with  his  mmners  and  be-iring,  and  with  his  Cither's  attentions, 
without  whtoti  she  must  have  in  ide  an  awkward  appearance,  hid  also  invited  Mm  to 
make  Walter  a  v:>it  during  the  holiday-. 

The  farm  on  which  Mr.  Foster  had  resi  led  ever  since  his  retirement  f.om  business  irj 
R?««hmotrd.  */»«  situate  I  about  live  miles  from  that  city,  n  'ir  \\\-  If  ichaniosville  uru- 
in  an  angle  formed  hv  the  Chiekah«miny  River,  >>-.  'Swunp.'as  it  is  Called  in  tint 
vieoi'.ty.  ir.d  the  15  •  iver  Dun  Creek,  a  tributary  of  the  Chicltahomin  V.  Mrs.  G»rdui  o's 
estate  was  boated  several  miles  lower  down  on  the  'Swimp,'  and  bsynni1  the  15-iver 
Itani ',  and  as  Char  ey  had  do  bro'her  and  Bernard  w  is  an  mrly  s  >  \,  they,  bei  ig  *3h  i  >!- 
mates,  were  often  together,  and  greatly  attached  to  each  other  though  the  latter  wis 
gome  font  years  younger  than  the  former.  I)  irinj  Walter'*  visit  to  his  ir.  n  I '•*.  th  •/ 
Were  almost  constantly  at  Mr.  flKrdiner'.s,  whf.n  Bernard  wis  riot  with  them  ;  ml  a 
gloriou-  lime  they  h  >d  n(  it,  hunting  along  the  bmks  of  the  ('  lick  ih  i  n  nv  'i n  I  M  I  iVef 
Dam  or  fishing  in  tl,  >se  streams  or  in  the  spond  at  K  ly son's  Mill,  where  ma  iy  ni  toe  i  lb 
and  silver   pere.h    were  caught.     Of  course  they  saw  a  great  deal  of   X  ■  ;   t  >i* 

tini"      She  frequently  mideoiw  of  the  fishing  party,  add  they  r<  I 
bark  nlnvmt  daily.     It  would   b  •  »i*perflu  ow  to  nay  h<iw  mi  'h  her   presi  1 

their    pleasure  on  such    occasions;  and   u 

made  upon  their  yoiinu  hearts  by  such  delighfffll   and    linre-ti  •.  out    in 

the  still,  deep  forest,  beside   the  rippling  waters,  and  under  the  blight,  1  u"r 


jfjj  .  THE  RIVALS: 

pkies.     Three  of  them,  at  least,  never  forgot  those  charming  rides  alone;    the   smooth 
country  roads,  edfced  with  green  turf  anrl  brilliant  wild  flowers,  and  bordered  by  straws 
of  noblcforest,  or  by  straggling  rail  fences  covered  over  with   the  magnificent  trumpet 
vine  «r.d  the  luxuriant  branches  of  wild  grape  end  sloe  vines.     Nor  could   they  fail  to 
>  omen? be:  those  delightful  rambles  along  the  Chickahominy,  whou  they  amused  c  i 
other   by  tracing  resemblances  to  Indian  warriors  and   wigwams,  in  the  high,  I'anf  > 
roots,  nod  gnarled,  knotty  trunks  of  the  venerable  trees  around  them,  which  hid  n- 
shaded  the  Red  Men  of  the  forest,  and  exercised  their  memories  by  narrating  such   1  - 
(jendfl  and  local   traditions  as  had  been  handed  down  to  thtm,  or  their  imaginatim  3  ;\ 
weaving  little  fictions  of  their  own ;  while   Nellie  twined   garlands  of  ferns   and  wild 
vdpes,  and  the   boys  rippled  the  dark  bosom  of  the  murky,  sluggish  stream   by  ra^tipg 
info  it  little  muse!1  shells  gathered  along  its  banks.     And  in  after  years,  above  t!w  rioi  • 
est  drains  of  music,  or  the  deafening  roar  of  cannon  and  the  ceaseless  rattle  of  moskcfci  \ . 
•each  of  tbem  could  recall  the  drowsy  burn  of  the  mid-wheel,  borne  to  their  ears  on   the 
the  soft  summer  air  as  they  sat  en  the  shady  hill-side,  with  their  corks  floating  )■'.%*  on 
the  dark  waters  edging  the  woods,  while  the  netting  siui  lit  up  the   broad  bosom  r»l 
|>Gud    with    gorgeous  rainbow    tints,  and  the  soft,  sweet   sounds  of  the   closing   suiivroei 
da^,  rising  tin  from  Jfae  water  and  the  woods,  blended  in  one  deep,  rich  vesper  h 
<  £  praise  to  the  God  of  Nature. 

When,  after  four  Greeks  spent  with  his  friend,  Walter  was  returning  home,  Charity 
rained  to  accept  MTss  Emelihje's  invitation  and  accompany  him.  l>is  father,  who 
had  happened  once  accidentally  to  dine  at  Poplar  Lodge,  the  residences  of  the  Misses 
t.'aynard,  did  not  give  a  very  favorable  account  of  the  commissariat  ol  the  establishment^ 
'and  Walter  had  hinted  that  his  aunts  were  very  economical  housekeepers:  but  ibis  did 
not  deter  Charley,  who  laughingly  replied  to  his  father's  warning  by  saying  thai  aftei 
feasting  as  he  had  done  all  vacation,  he  could  afford  to  live  one  week,  like  a  'near  iw 
mioier,  by  sucking  his  paws. 

'  Well,  my  son,  you  must  not  let  the  ladies  see  you  at  it,:  said  the  old  goHtlwumi,  '  fur 
whatever  is  lacking  in  bread  and  meat  is  made  up  in  etiquette  and  style.     None  but 
beet  toanners  will    be  tolerated  there.     Have  you  never  noticed   how  very  punch 
young  Maynard  is?  ' 

Poplar  Lodge  was  situated  on  the  south  side  of  the  ChtckahoRtiny,  in  Henrico  con:  I 
rear  a  point  now  known  as  Fair  Oak  Station,  on  the  York  River  railroad.  It  was  .1 
nest,  r-r. ag  little  place,  but  very  unprofitable  to  the  owner?,  owing  to  imperfect  cultiva- 
tion, from  the  want  of  sufficient  labor,  for  the  Misses  Mayuurd  owned- no  servant  except 
tin  elderly  man  and  his  wife,  a  haif  grown  boy,  and  some  younger  children  ;  and  they 
were  not  able  to  hire.  Still,  with  rigid  economy,  they  were  able  to  make  quite  a  gen- 
teel appearance.  The  little  square  yard  which  surrounded  the  hm.se  was  bordered,  in- 
(drJo  of  the  white  palings  enclosing  it,  by  a  formal  row  of  Lombardy  Poplars,  and  laid 
off  in  narrow  gravel  walks  edged  with  flowers,  which  were  Miss  Emeline's  especial  care; 
while  the  grass  plats  they  enclosed  were  kept  scrupulously  clear  of  weeds  and  rubbish 
by  the  old  man  servant,  who  had  been  gardener  for  Walter's  grandfather  in  the  palmiest 
daya  of  the  family,  and  who  delighted  in  keeping  up,  as  far  as  their  reduced  circum- 
stances would  permit,  all  the  style  and  formula  which  had  then  been  observed.  This 
Rame  old  negro — Uncle  Tom  he  would  have  been  called  anywhere  else  in  Virginia,  but 
r.bn  Misses. May nard  called  him  Uncle  Thomas — was  quite  a  character,  and  reminded 
C'uuiey.  whom  his  idiosynciacies  greatly  amused,  of  the  ingenious  and  attached  butler 
of  the  Master  of  Ravenswood.  On  tho  first  day  of  his  arrival  Charley  saw  him  hard  at 
work  in  a  little  corn  patch  near  the  house  all  the  morning;  but  wheu  the,  dinner  hour 
f>viived  and  he  and  Walter  lepaired  to  their  chamber  to  prepare  for  the  meal.  Uncle 
Thomas  brought  them  water  and  towels,  aud  insisted  on  helping  them  to  make  their 
toilettes.  He  was  proceeding  to  brush  the  suit  Charley  had  rode  in,  preparatory  to 
buying  it  in  the  wardrobe,  when  the  latter  objected,  saying,  '  Don't  trouble  yourself 
to  wait  on  us,  Uucle  Thomas;  I  can  wait  on  myself.     1  have  been  doing  nothing  .11 


«  Xcv,  Mars  Walter,"  rtpttti  Thomas,  fcprovinglg. 


.       A  C8ICKAH0MINY  STORV.  15 

day,  and  am  better  able  to  brush  that  coat  than  you.  who  mtisl  6a  tired  with  working 
in  the  sun.' 

'  Indeed,'  said  nncle  Thomas,  with  dignity,  straightening  up  his  boot  figure,  'I'm 
never  too  tired  to  wait  on  my  youOg  master's  isitdrs*  I  dou'l  hart  mysfelf  with  work  ; 
I  ain't  obliged  to  work  ;  no!  •  woik   to  Thoovtf.  g  9  here  ain't  on. 

as  grand  a  scale  aa  I  was  always  used  to,  and  many  fewer  colored   folks 

than  I  w;.s  raised  with,  and  not  so  much  •  with  the  white  folks  as  used  to  be,  I 

gets  sorter  lonesome,  a  id  to  set  the  youngsters  a  good 

example  and  teach  'em  industrious  habits.     \x  udon't  keep  many  of  ounpeople  at  home 
now,  though.     The  family  was  unfortttuaJ  had  to  sell  our  forgo 

estate  on  lb  rid  we  ain'l  ace  fun  all  our  men,  so  we  hire 

'em  out  in  I 

'I  v  Christmas,  1  ucle  Thomas;,'  said 

■,  signihcai 

'  Now  what  i     .  Mars  v  I  '•     '  Don't  I  wart  on 

i  — what  .you  wan';  with  'etq  h 

'  We!!,  then,  I  f  the  mosey  they  hire  far,'  raid  his 

young  m  isl  '1  think  it  is  very  selfish  in  you  to  spend  it  all  ou  your- 

self, Uncle  Tl  •wnas.'     " 

'Now,  Mars  Waiter,' replied  Thomas,  repi  vingly,  •-  this  the  gentlemanly;  manners 
roe  and  your  am  d  tryi.ng  to  teach  you  ever  since  you  was  left  an  orphan  toour 

care,  to  be  mi  j  t|  ■ .'    Then  tell- 

ing the  young  gentlemen  to  ring  if  they  wanted  ;n,  ■  re,  Thomas  bowed  iiimself 

out  of  the  r 

Wbe  i  the  I      s  descended  to  the  dining  room  -  id  him  arrayed  in  a  long  v 

apron,  with  whi  i  n  and   a  w  i  ljug   gravely  behind 

in  1   napkins  of  tho 
finest  damask,  a  I  rich  o hi i  -   pieces   of  oddly  matched,  but 

)  ami-  ■   heir   loon  I    relic* of  its  former 

ur. 

The  dish  tll,a\id  tl  i   so  much 

form,  such  a  flourishi  of  plates,  Uncle  Thomas  was  so  im- 

posing   .' ;  so  dignified i  and  Mis  5  so  affable,  that,  somehow,  Charley, 

who  b-ui  ft  •  r  his  ride,  fortunatdj  upletely. 

At  dinner  he  had   an   opportunity   I  he         not  met 

before.     SI  r   toad  M  given  up  beuix  and  taken  to  caps 

pec  to  !  bed  up  to  her,  and   v  ■      Iter  si3ter 

as  quite  a  ;  Family    pride  irncter,  and  tho 

her  hobby.     Charley  had  not  use  before 

he  had   had    a  minul  of  evory    branch  >>l  .ions. 

Walter    i  tldnk  with   brr  on  this. subject,  was  much  interested 

in  the  top  |  with  having    his   ancient  pedigeee    ami    high   connections 

paradi  | 

Charley,  who  !  .  red  from  Ids  father,  who  considered 

such]'  ld  observation  of  the  latter  to  the  i  weould 

all  traj  ne  ir   laughing, 

,  ii.  Miss  Maj  ii 

Nor  did  Miss  I  |  iocord  with  l  ■    tainedby 

rei  lemberad  with  regret  oua  or  two  eligible  offers  which  she  uad 

•  ne  apj  hi  r  hand  were,  to  express 

't  in  Mia  .  i  plaint  rigin  ;"  and  she  lu.  1  mentally  resolved  that  this 

consideration  should  uever  weicrh  with  her  a  milarcircun  >'ely, 

howevir.  we  fenr  that  her  di     don  (fas  arrived  ■( 

Alter  i  week  spenl  j  'ar  Lodg  '.vl  taken  many  pririRa  notes 


1(3  THE  RIVALS: 

on  (he  ladies  and  Uncle  Thomas.,  for  the  volume  on  human  nature  which  lie  was  men- 
tally compiling,  Charley  returned  home,  The  visit,  by  miking  him  acquainted  with 
Walter's  home  and  relatives,  had  given  him  an  insight  into  the  character  and  conduct  of 
his  friend  which  he  had  never  had  before.  He  saw  that  the  cold.,  hard  atmosphere  of  the 
false  life  at  the  Lodge  was  not  favorable  to  the  growth  of  those  amiable  social  virtues 
which,  in  spite  of  his  partiality,  he  had  mentally  acknowledged  young  .Maynard  t-i  be 
deficient  in  ;  and  he  pittieri  more  than  he  blamed  him  for  the  want  of  them,  and  resolved, 
by  redoubled  affection  and  kindness,  to  atone,  as  far  as  lay  in  his  powci .  for  the  sternness' 
of  Miss  Judith  and  the  indifference  of  Miss  Emetine. 

Wh  le  the  young  gentlemen  had  been  amusing  themselves  as  we  have  described, 
their" families  had  been  preparing  for  their  departure  to  West  Pointy  for  Mr.  Foster 
had  yielded  to  his  son's  entreaties  and  consented  that  ha  might  complete  his  education 
there. 

The  time  had  nearly  arrived  for  t.hom  to  leave,  and  after  a  few  farewell  vi&its  made 
in  company,  including  a  very  pathetic  leave-taking  of  their  former  teachers  and  their 
favorite  haunts  about  the  old  academy;  they  set  off  on  their  j  nirney.  and  were  joined 
in  Richmond  by  Bob  Harrison,  who  was  going  to  the  same  institution.  Neither  Char- 
ley nor  Walter  was  particularly  pleased  to  have  his  company  ;  but  he  was  somewhat 
subdued  by  the  recent  parting  with  his  family,  and  a  little  cowed  at  the  idea  of  going 
among  strangers,  and  to  was  more  endurable  than  they  expected  him  to  be.  Still  the 
hoys  contemplated,  with  much  pleasure,  the  taking-down  that  awaited  him  at  West 
Point. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

Four  years  after  the  period  treated  of  in  the  lust  chapter,  on  a  warm  summer  after- 
noon,  a  hack,  or  hired  carriage,  from  Richmond,  might  have  been  seen  proceeding 
leisurely  along  the  Mechanicsville  Turnpike,  through  a  cloud  of  dust  which  followed 
in  its  track.  'The  two  large  traveling  trunks  strapped  on  behind,  a  couple  of  port- 
manteaus upon  the  boot,  and  the  same  number  of  well  tilled  carpet  hags  on  the  front- 
Beat  of  the  coach,  indicated  that  the  two  handsome  voting  gentleman,  in  cadot's  Uni- 
form, occupying,  the  back  seat,  had  traveled  some  distance.  And,  indeed,  thev  had 
come  a  good  way.  having  left  the  highlands  of  the  Hudson  only  a  few  days  before  ; 
for,  in  spite  of  their  military  dress,  Iheir  Sruad  chests,  manly  voices  and  heavy  mous- 
taches, we  recognize  in  the  travelers  our  old  frier.ds,  Walter  Maynnd  and  Charley 
Foster.  Their  military  training  had  developed  their  boyish  forms  into  models  of 
manly  strength  and  vigor,  and  though  Charley  was  still  taller  and  stouter  than  Wal- 
ter, yet  there  was  in  the  lithe  figure  of  the  latter  a  supple  grace  very  pleasing.  His 
face,  too,  was  strikingly  handsome,  though  still  less  pleasing  than  Charley's  :  but  his- 
countenance  had*  greatly  improved  in  agreeableness  of  expression  since  we  last  saw 
him.  Those  four  years  at  West  Point  had  been  happy  ones  for  him,  affording,  as 
they  did,  an  opportunity  for  Ins  ambition  to  feed  upon  the  applause  and  distinction 
which  his  superior  diligence  and  abilities*  won  for  him  among  his  fellow  students;  and 
he  looked  and  felt  in  a  better  humor  with  the  woild  than  he  had  ever  do-e  before. 
The  two  had  graduated  with  honor,  but  as  yet  were  indecisive  in  the  matter  of  retain- 
ing their  commissions  in  the  army.  The  friendship  between  them  had  greatly  strength- 
ened during  these  past  four  years  ;  and  they  were  dubbed  by  their  mutual  friends  at 
West  Point,  "  Jonathan  and  David."  They  were,  indeed,  more  like  brothers  than 
friends;  and  the  well-fided  purse  with  which  Mr.  Foster  kept  his  son  supplied,  minis- 
tered alike  to  the  wants  of  both  ;  for  although  Walter  would  not  accent  money,  yet 
Charley  never  made  a  purchase  for  himself  that  he  did  not  make  a.  similar  one  for  his 
friend;  and  all  their  furloughs  for  little  excursions  to  New  York,  All  any,  &c,  were 
always  gotten  together,  when  Charley  proposed  all  the  amusements  and   quietly  footed 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  •  17 

the  bills.     They  were  now  on  their  way  to  Beaver  Dam,  Charley's  home,  to  spend  the 
summer  months. 

Walter  was  leaning  back  in  his  cornet  of  the  carriage,  with  his  aristocratic  little  feet 
crossed  on  the  scat  before  him,  anil  one  hand  lightly  and  gracefully  supporting  a  cigar 
at  which  ho  was  slowly  puffing  away  with  the  practised  air  of  an  adept,  While  with  the 
other  he  held  a  daily  paper  which  he  was  intently  perusing,  Charley  was  bending  out 
of  the  carriage,  with  the  stump  of  a  half  extinguished  cigar  between  the  thumb  and 
forefinger  of  his  right  hand,  and  amusing  himself  by  whistling  to  a  stray  cur  which  was 
following  them,  and  talking  to  the  driver. 

'Do  you  hear  that,  Walter?'  he  said,  turning  suddenly  and  addressing  himself  to  his 
friend.  '  This  uncle  says  that  his  wife  lives  at  M's.  Gardiner's,  and  that  there  is  to  bei 
a  large  party  tnere  to-morrow  night,  given  in  honoi  of  Miss  Nellie's  birthday.  Our 
arrival  is  just  in  time.' 

'Just  out  of  time,  you  had  better  say,'  replied  Walter.  They  will  not  hear  of  it  itt 
time  to  send  us  invitations.' 

'  0,  I  will  see  that  they  arc  duly  apprised  of  that  circumstance,'  said  Charley,  laugh- 
ing. '  I_  had  intended  calling  ou  Bernard  to-morrow  morning,  and  I  shan't  let  theso 
tidings  deter  me,  I  assure  you.' 

;  How  strange  and  how  delightful,'  he  went  on,  icis  to  be  back  in  old  Hanover  again, 
with  the  privilege  of  staying  as  long  as  one  pleases.  I  say,  old  fellow,  you  and  I  ought 
to  be  pretty  well  versed  in  military  doings;  we've  been  kept  close  enough  at  it  during 
the  last  (our  years — tew  and  far  betweeu  our  furloughs  have  been.  I  dare  say  the  girls 
about  here  have  quite  outgrown  my  knowledge  of  them.  There  is  Nellie  Gardiner  that 
f  haven't  seen  but  once  in  four  years,  and  that  was  ouly  for  a  short  time  during  my 
first  furlough.  Whenever  I  have  been  home  since,  she  was  away  at  school.  I  wonder 
how  she.  looks — whether  she  is  as  pr?tty  as  ever?  ' 

'  Look  out  and  66e,'  said  Walter,  who  had  been  gazing  dreamily  down  the  road,  while 
Charley  was  talking,  '  Yonder  comes  a  little  grey  pony  wondrously  like  the  one  Nellio 
used  to  ride,  and  a  little  lady  on  it  wondrously  like  Nellie  herself,  while  riding  with  her 
is  a  boy  I  could  swear  to  be  Bernard.' 

.Inst  as  they  reached  the  Chickihomtny,  the  carriage  and  the  aquestrian  party  met ; 
and  there  being  a  good  ford  below  the  bridge,  the  coachman  drove  into  the  stream  t<» 
wuter  his  horses  at  the  very  moment  that  Nellie  and  Bernard  chose  the  same  route. 
They  met.  therefore,  vis-a-ri.i  in  that  classic  stream. 

Bernard  was  tha  first  to  recognize  them,  aud  cried  delightedly*  'Good  evening!  Sis- 
ter, here  are  Charley  and  Walter  come  home  just  in  time  for  your  party,  as  you  were 
wishing  only  the  other  day.' 

tfellie,  at  this,  looked  up  with  a  pleased  smile  on  the  same  beautiful  face  they  ramem- 
bered  so  well,  and  approaching  the  carriage  Willi  her  brother,  held  out  to  them  the 
identical  little  hand,  scarcely  an  atom  larger  than  they  had  known  it.  whose  gentle  clasp 
sent  the  same  delightful  thrill  to  their  hearts  as  in  the  olden  time,  when  they  were  boys 
and  girl  together. 

A  few  momenta  r«f  delightful  conversation  they  had  then,  with  the  cool  waters  rip- 
pling softly  around  the  carriage  wheels  and  the  horses'  feet,  the  setting  sun  gilding  the 
tree  tops,  and  a  little  cool  evening  breeze  which  had  come  up  from  the  Swamp,  dallying 
coquettish ly  with  Nellie's  floating  veil  and  glossy  hair,  when  the  coachman  reminded 
our  travelers  that  he  had  to  get  back  to  town  that  night,  as  his  carriage  was  engaged  for 
an  early  hour  the  next  morning.  Upon  this  announcement  they  were  preparing  to  take 
leave,  when  Bernard  informed  them  that  he  had  reached  ,  the  limit  proposod  by  Nellie 
before  starting  for  their  ride,  and  that  as  they  would  be  together  at  Mr.  Foster's  gato 
there  was  do  use  in  saying  good-byo  yet. 

Before  they  had  proceeded  far,  it  occurred  to  Charley  that  Bernard  was  occupying  a 
very  enviable  position,  and  his  manners  being  of  tha  freest  and  easiest,  he  proposed  ao 
exchange  of  seats.     This  was  readily  acceded  to,  and  he  was  aoou  cantering  along  by 


28  THE  RIVALS: 

Nellie's  side,  as  proud  and  happy  as  a  king  is  generally  supposed  f  >  be.  The  eques- 
trian party  soou  discovered  that  the  dust  from  the  carriage  was  unendurable,  aud  rode 
ahead  to  avoid  it.  As  Walter  gazed  down  the  road  after  them,  looking  so  haudsonae 
and  so  happy,  the  first  bitter  feeling  that  he  had  over  f*it  toward  his  friend  sprang  up 
•  in  his  breast.  lie  feFt  jealous  and  indignant,  ana  thought  that  Chu;  ley  had  acted  un- 
generously.    Perhaps  he  had;  but  who  was  ever  generous  in  such  a  m  Uter  ? 

A  beautiful  woman  never  looks  so  enchanting,  so  ravishingjy  beautiful,  as  on  horse- 
back, especially  if  she  rides  well;  and  no  woman  ever  roda  m.  uily  than  ft 
■Gardiner.  The  lingering  tenderness  for  her  which  had  been  smouldering  in  (  barley's 
heart  ever  since  those  old  days  at  the  academy,  was.  during  that  ride,  fanned  into  fc 
flame  of  love  which  was  destined  to  bum  on  the  holiest  altar  in  the  temple  of  bis  heart 
while  life  should  be  granted  him  \n  which  to  cherish  human  passion.  And  the  glimpses 
that  Walter  had  that  evening  of  her  face  and  figure,  the  few  tones  of  her  voice  which 
met  Lis  car.  and  the  few  glances  which  fell  on  him  from  her  melting  ''yes,  kindled,  from 
the  ashes  of  a  certain  boyish  fancy,  vMiicb  had  Song  iaiu  dormant  in  his  bosom,  a  p.issicn 
which  gave  the  co^or  to  his  whole  life. 

After  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Foster  had  retired  for  the  ni^l^,  the  two  friends  sat  for  hours  in 
«ileoce  on  the  porch  at  Beaver  Dam,  poking  their  cigars,  gazing  out  upon  the"  moon- 
light, and  thinking  of  Miss  Gardiner. 

Since  thsy  parted  with  her  at  the  gate,  they  had  uot  spoken  to  each  other  about  her. 
except  that  (Jaarlcy  bad  asked — 

•  Do  yon  think  Nellie  is  much  changed,  Walter  ?  ' 

'  Only  for  the  better,'  was  the  reply. 

'Yes,  that  is  it,'  replied  Charley,  '  only   for  the  better.     And  what  a  lovely   creature 
she  is — what  heavenly  eyes,  and  what  bewitching  manners  1     I  never  saw  such  grace- 
ful ease  blended  with  such  charming  modesty,  or  such  a  beautiful  combination  of  goo- 
,  tlenoss,  dignity,  frankness  and  vivacity  in  the  planners  of  any  woman  before;  did  you?' 

•Remember,'  replied  Walter,  curtly,  "that  I  have  not  had  the  same  opportunity  of 
observiug  and  analyzing  Miss  Gauliner's  manners  that  you  have,  and  so  am  not  pro- 
pared  to  pronounce  upon  them.' 

What  were  their  dreams  that  night,  and  their  waking  thoughts  the  uext  day  up  to 
the  time  when  they  set  off  to  the  party,  to  which  they  had  received  the  most  pre3siDg. 
invitations,  we  will  leave. the  ingenious  reader  to  imagine* 

Mrs.  Gardiner's  residence,  as  we  have  said,  was  but  a  few  miles  from  Reaver  Dam, 
and  situated  ou  the  Chickahominy.  It  was  a  largo  wooden  building,  furnished  insijje 
with  richness  and  elegance,  and  surrounded  on  tiie  outside  by  extensive  grounds  laid  off 
and  ornamented  with  great  taste.  To-night,  the  whole  house  aud  a  large  part  of  the 
grounds  were  ablaze  with  light;  and  the  numerous  carriages  ami  horsemen  dashing  down 
the  avenues  and  sweeping  around  the  circular  carnage  drive  before  the  house,  the  groups 
of  men  on   thi  and  the  glimpses   of  ladies  caught  through    the   partly  drawn 

curtains  of  the  brilliantly  lighted  dressing-rooms,  formed  a  most  animated  scene  as  our 
two  embryo  lieutenants  approached  it. 

Before  repairing  to  the  dressing-room  to  adjust  their  locks  and  remove  from  their 
shining  broad-cloth  any  dust  which  might  have  accumulated  there  during  their  ride,  they 
stopped  on  the  portico  to  salute  some  old  school  friends.  After  a  short  time  thus  spent 
in  friendly  converse,  they  entered  the  parlors,  which  they  found  quite  full. 

The  matrons  and  maidens  of  the  Old  Dominion  were  nobly  represented  by  the  fairer,: 
portion  of  Mrs.  Gardiner's  guests.  Every  style  of  female  beamy  was  to  be  seen  there.. 
from  the  cairn,  fully  matured  woman,  whose  manners  and  mind  had  been  formed  by 
years  of  intercourse  with  the  world,  to  the  blushing  maiden  just  budding  into  woman- 
hood—from the  dark  brunette,  with  raven  hair  and  eyes  of  uigbt,  to  the  fairest  blonde, 
whose  golden  ringlets  shaded  sapphire  eyes  ami  brow  of'alabaster.  Among  this  shining 
galaxy,  our  young  heroes  thought  now,  as  they  had  done  four  years  ago,  at  the  Fourth 
of  July  bull,  that  Hone  could  compare  with  Nellie  Gardiner.     Nor  were  they  alone  in. 


A  CHICk'AHOMINY  STORY.  j<) 

this  oph  ion;  I  f  tfio  most  elegant  men  in  t!io  roor.:  wpn?  paying  t\  !r  hpmeg* 

at  tha  some  shjine;  an  1  evon  the  most  euviotts  oi'  li^r  own.aex  c-:      I   .•  :  fail  to  perceiv.i 
and  wow  (■ impelled  to  acknowledge  her  charms. 

Sh'   was iadfi  peerlessly  boautii   i  to-night,  with  bcr  fairy-like  tiguro.drai    * 

in  a  cloud-like  robe  ••:  embroidered  while  crape,  a  bertha  uf  i  :         d 

up  on  her  bosom  with  a  pearl  broast-ctustci    of  blush  rose*  in  her  n  iia:r,  an  * 

pa  rl  braoel  '     ■■  melting  into  the  whiteness  of  her  I  ind  arm*. 

Her  large  darl   eyes,  of  a  Ji  ep  violet  color,  and  shaded   by   I r n ^-     •    '  rig  lashes  of  t  jo 
Bane  hue  anil  :-  hair,  wore  at  once  so  son  n:.<!  bri  it  every  gh 

thrilled  the  observer     :.;'i  a  strange  pleasure,  and  to-night  they  were  fairly  aglow   •     "v 
joyous  excitemcul  icr  small  mouth  and  exquisitely  roouldc  i  wreathe) 

and  dimpled  with  happy  smiles.     Young,  woultlry,  beautiful,  ndn  beloved,  jusi 

entering  upon  a  a  so  much  joy,  why  should  i  'hippy? 

Fcrcmost  am  admirers  to-night,  u  is  her  cousin,  n  acqtinrol 

ance,  Bob  Harri  "Mr,  Uobert  Hurl 

Time,  which  eft  my  c'.ange^  had  press  on  Bob'Hatrt- 

son ;  though  o  ewbat  improved,  there  was  rx  eh;iugr»f':r  the  bi 

At  \V.-!    Point  ho  had  assu  iated   with  the  most  immoral  and  1  set  gf  ca 

Vbnncctcd  with   the  !   had  committed  many  rui  :'?: 

which,   if  ventilated  rtaiuly  have  procured  his  exptlsic  ibadeftiy.— 

Indeed    ho  had  barely ^esriaped   being  expelled  more  than  onoo.     I 
examination,  however,  taking  a  very  low  figure,  and  escaping  di  s  very        < 

of  his  teeth— j  did  alst',  at  a  previous  date,  Pope,  •]      i    id.1,  Hooker        • 

sever;!1  others  of  similar  mental  oalibro,  who  have  lately  ocoupicd 
in  tin-  eyes  of  1  his  prol        .  ,  :.nd  as  bis  family 

was  :1.  (.here  was  no  doubt  about  his  «cttirp  ..  Convoui  int  p^s 

in  tl  ivas  a  mostunpriucipled  and  worthless  v.'  Nellie  hart 

t   son  of  her  mother's  only  I  ■  could  nob 

help  I  rd   forbim.    IStil  I ,  jr-V  -   Wis  liotinolini 

Bubmil  to  his  monopolizing  her  society  en  be  seemed   I  to  da,  and  sh> 

coii'.'iv  ti  I  ivors  quite  equally  among  her  ntunen  i     »«  i  drora. 

Lieutenant  F<  I    into  any  matter  that  engaged   I      ittontiou  wit!)   b|:< 

whole  sotrf,  contrived  to  obtain  quite  .1  liberal  share    it  her  wr  M  iy  ;»:-,). 

;  in   . 
time  d  hadqniti    i  tc-a-tote  durii  (■veiling,     Thqy 

weri  bol      pet  6d   with  the  pi  y   had  made.  I  witv 

lilis^,  returned  to  Beaver  Dam  just  before  dawn  to  dream  of  Elys 

Thi  lioer's  was  followed,   within  tht    oexi 

og  me  at  Mr.  Hari  ison's  i  on  the  1  . 

at  Mi  I  mates  were  visinn^:  ..  i  iier':; 

bou  mgwl   with  company,  among  whom   i  ioJ,  almost 

daily,  "        r  .     Trie,  they   found  time  occasionally 

»*,  an>i   riiii 
Hiding  \i       Gardiner  and  her  friends,  ■    cr  to  Poplar 

the  i  - 

.  as. 

W  .  h  id  long  tomed  I 

nl,  had  seen  a  rival  in 
in  vi<  Mary  prospects,  handso.me  pel 

I   him   quit  one.     lint  blinded  I  .    ■ 

owi  ■.    the  cold,   calm   •  interior  <,f  I  ( 

Acr'    •  mid  foi  to  Walter  cv<  ry  opinion  :o   '. 

ha-.  ght  his  sympathy,  I  a 

matt; 


gO  .  'THE  RIVALS: 

Ar. for  Nellie,. herself,  it  was  impossible  to  discover,  from  h'ar  manner*  and  conduct, 
which  one  of  her  numerous  admirers,  if  any,  had  received  her  heart's  election  ,  "for 
though  toe  pure  and  dignified  to  condescend  to  coquetry,  yet  the  kindness  of  her  nature, 
at  d  tha  politeness  of  her  Manners,  led  to  such  an  equal  distribution  of  her  favors,  that 
eich  one  was  left  in  doubtwhether  he  was*  Sot  the  f.tVored  one. 

This  being  the  condition  of  affairs,  when  Mrs.  Gardiner,  Nellie  and  Bernard.  Bob  Har- 

t;  spa",  and  sc  me  others  afoori'g  their   intimate  friends,  proposed,  several   weeks  after    fhe 

,<rty,  to  visit  the  Virginia  Spring*,  Charley  determined  to  accompany  them  :  and  will? 


Iiis  usual  generosity,  invito!  Walter  to  go  with  him.  Knowing  that  his  friend's  whole 
soul  was  enlisted  iri  his  suit  with  Miss  Gardiner,  and  determined  to  supplant  him.  if 
possible,  Walter  accep'ed  lie  invitation  and  submitted  to  have  his  expenses  paid  by 
I: is  rival  that  he  might  bask  in  the  smiles  tf  his  mistress. 

At  the  springs  new  triumphs  awaited  the  Hanover  belle,  as  Nellie  was  termed.  Scores 
of  lovers  were  added  to  her  train,  and  so  closely  wis  she  besieged  by  their  attentions, 
that  it  was  onlj  by  the  Utmost  assiduity  that  her  old  friends  could  sometimes  secure  her 
liaad  for  a  dauce,  or  her  cornjoany  for  a  promenade.  Yet.  the  rarity  of  this  pleasure  *0 
enhanced  its  delight,  that,  the  party  found  the  time  pass  rapidlj  and  pleasantly,  till  the 
chilly  air  of  September  made  a  longer  stay  among  the  mountains  undesirable,  augt 
I  istsned  their  departure  for  their  homes. 

in  the  whirl  and  excitement  of  the  public  life  at  the  watering  places,  but  little  cp- 
p  rtunity  had  offered  ;'>;■  private  love-making,  and  the  relations' sustained  between  our 
young  friends  had  then-fire  remained  in  slain  qiv,  But  a  few  days  after  their  return, 
Walter,  who  was  then  at,  Poplar  hedge,  received  a  communication  from  the  War  De- 
pnrUneot,  summoning  him  to  repair  irpmediately  to  Washington  to  receive  his  comrais- 
•fciuti  anil  Le  a>ai»ueu  to  duty.  As  his  absence  would  doubtless  be  a  long  one,  and  his 
"J-cation  probably  very  distant,  he  resolved  to  see  Miss  Gardiner  before  setting  out  on 
lis  journey,  and  confess  his  love  and  tender  her  the  offer  of  his  hand  With  this  view, 
-<:(j  arrayed- himself  in  bis  most .befitting  costume,  and  mounting  his  horse,  set  ofi  for 
V'airftdd,  Nellie's  home. 

When  he  arrived,  the  servant  who  met  him  at  the  door,  replied  to  his  inquiry  whether 
tiis  young  mistress  was  in,  by  Baying  that  she  was  at  home,  but  not  in  the  house.  She 
l>ad  been  walking  in  trie  garden,  and  was  now  sitting  in  tne  honey-suckle  arbor.  Thiuk- 
i  ig  that  this  was  a  most  suitable  place  for  the  purpose  he  had  in  view,  Walte>-  declined 
entering  the  house,  and  resolved  to  join  her  there.  The  location  of  the  honey-suckle 
•  r rb>r  was  Well  knfwa  to  him,  as  he  had  often  sat  there  with  the  ladies,  it  being  a  favor- 
|te  resort  of  the  liardiners  anid  their  guests.  So,  walking  leisurely,  with  his  usual 
■  Useless  tread,  he  threaded  the  labyrinth  of  walks  leading  through  a  wilderness  of shrub- 
bery to  his  lady's-  bower. 

In  the  trepidation  of^ii*  spirits,  he  had  forgotten  to  inquire  whether  she  was  alone, 
i».nd  on  Bearing  the  arbor,  was  struck  with  surprise  at  seeing  some  one  with  her.  But 
i;  was  net  simply  disappolutrnenVat  finding  the  opportunity  he  had  desired  for  his  decla- 
ration pestponed  that  rooted  him  breathless  to  the  spr-f.  Nellie's  companion  was  his 
most  dreaded  rival.  Charley  Foster:  and  he  saw.  at  a  gianee,  that  the  tones  which  were 
trembling  en  his  lips  "were  then  being  breathed  into  her  willing  ear  bv  a  voice  whose 
vilchery  he  had  reason  to  dread.  And  the  hand  which  he' would  have  given  worlds  to  call 
I. is  f>wn,  was  at  that  moment  trembling  in  the  warm  clasp  of  his  rival,  who  bending  for- 
ward,, with  his  eloquent  eyes  fixed  on  the  maiden'a  face,  was  paying,  in  a  deep  voice,  trem- 
UifiUf"  with  enutiou : 

'  I  know  that  it  \a  great  presumption  on  my  part.  I  am  not  and  can  never  be  worthy 
of  you,  tut  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  have,  the  whole  homage  of  my  heart,  the  devo- 
tion a*nd'  service  of  my  life,  I  lay  at  your  feet ;  Nellie,  will  you  accept  them  ?' 

The  girl's  red  lips,  slightly  parted,  were  quivering  nervously,  and  thelong^silken  lashes 
of  her  dewncast  eyes  swept  her  che?kf,"crimson  with  blushes;  but  calming  her  trepida- 


IP 


«<-~siS«t?r   1*-' 


_■-  -    . 


fw  I. 

T.'.,'VjiWBw>-  ; 


1  '•  ■ 


"And,  on  Mating  the  si  ,  •<  .■• /.  ,.,//,     -.^  ...  ,     ,.  ,  /lfr." 


A  CIIICKAIIOMIXY  STORY.  23 

tion,  she  raised  ber  i.ir,re  eyes,  melting  with  tenderness,  to  her  lover's  fae?,  and  Raid  in  a 
soft  tone,  scarcely  audible:  '  It  is  the  most  precious  boon  that  earth  could  offer  rue;  I 
accept  it  with  pride  and  pleasure.' 

An  expression  of  ecstasy  lighted  up  Charley's  fare. 

'  My  own  !'  he  exclaimed,  iu  his  deep,  tender  voice,  pressing  the  hand  ho  held  passion- 
ately to  his  lips  ;    '  mv  own  !' 

'  Yes,  forever,'  murmured  Nellie. 

Young,  and  fair,  and  graceful,  as  they  both  were,  they  mado  a  beautiful  tableau  in  that 
attitude,  with  the  golden  autumn  light  pla\ing  over  them,  and  the  flowering  branches 
of  the  honey-suckle  twining  around  them. 

A  scene  so  exquisite  as  the  one  we  have  attempted  to  describe,  would,  if  acted  <in  the 
boards  nf  any  theatre  in  Christendom,  have  elicited  down  thunders  of  applause  from  the 
most,  intelligent  and  discriminating  attdience  over  assembled  ;  but  no  sound  escaped  the 
single  spectator,  who  stood  traot  fixed.  With  emotion*;  such  as  Satan  is  supposed  to 
!iav(;  felt,  when  lest  and  undone  he  gazed  upon  the  le.iuiicsand  the  bliss  of  Eden,  Walter 
looked  npon  the  tableau  before  him,  then  noiselessly  retracing  his  steps,  left  the  gardou, 
with  a  heart  as  heavy  as  the  one  Adam  bore  with  him  from  Paradise. 

Arriving  at  the  house,  he  entered  the  parlor,  and  taking  up  a  book,  pretended  to  read, 
while  be  awaited  (I. alley's  aod  Nellie's  return. 

In  about  half  an  hour  theyoatne  in,  looking  very  bright  and  happy,  and  quite  pleased 
and  surprised  to  see  him  there. 

He  met  them  with  his  usual  calmness  and  self-possession,' and  seemed  quite  as  cordial 
as  ever.  The  keenest  eye  could  not  have  discovered  in  his  serene  exterior  any  traco  of 
the  volcanic  fireof  passions  surging  and  flaming  in  i.is  breast.  Wildly  as  he  loved  Nellie 
Gardiner,  he  felt  towards  her  the  keenest  resentment,  that  she  should  have  preferred 
another  to  him  ;  md  oh,  how  he  hated  Charley  Foster.  Yet,  he  drsguised  it  nil  and  sat 
with  them  nearly  an  hour,  discussing  trTe  most  ordinary  topics  in  the  most  commonplace 
manner.     When  he  arose  to  take  his  leave,  he  said  to  Xellie; 

'1  have  been  summoned   t  i  report  io  Washington  to  he  assigned  to  duty,  Miss  Gar-. 

diner,  and  expecting  to  I  ave  very  short  y,  I  called  this  afternoon  I     bid  sou  adieu    I  shall 

probably  not  have  an  opportunity  of  visiting  Virginia  again  very  soon,  and  so  shall  not 

have  the  pleasure  i  i  m<  eting  you  again  in  a  long  time ;  but  permit  mo  to  offer  you  my 

cvishet  for  your  happiness  in  saying  farewell.1 

'And  you,  too,  Charley,  will  acc.pt  fhe  same,'  he  ndd*d  turning  to  Charley,  without 
heeding  the  express  priso'an  ";  regret  they  were  both  utti  i 

'Oh,  no.  not  j  Charley  ;  :  return  home  with  me  and  spend  the  night  at  Beaver 

Dam,  and  stay  with  nie  until  y  r  Washington.' 

'I  shall  leave  uvn,'  replied    Walter.   '  and  so  cannot  accent  your 

invitation,  though  I  thank,  you  for  it.'  *    J 

Chi    ley  followed  hitu  Otrt  upon*  the  porch,  and  clinging  to  hi  ,d  • 

m  t  give  you  up,' eld  fellow  .  ■  1  really  do  not  know  how  toget  alone  without 
>'on;  -'    I  »ou'd  pack  up  and  be  off  with  you,     Write  soon  and  often 

;or  1  -    al    i   ,-'  yon  sadly.  ' 

'  <»•'    yr>u  wil  >!•  a  little  while,' said  Walter,  1     ghing        t  v  as  he  snrauc 

tops.  .  It. 

*  CHAPTfiU   IV. 

rrival   in  Washington,  while  he  was  busily  rupa-ed  in 
receive  the  foil  m         etter  I  ,iley  : 

i  Dkar  oi.i)  Cimm:-  I  hai  up  my  couasitsioo.  and  write 

' ;  ;i! lJ  nd  endeavor   I  me,  turough  his  influence,  an 


24  THE  RIVALS: 

agreeable  position  in  the  army.  I  prefer  active' service  aod  immediate  duty.  If  such 
»  thing  is  possible,  1  would  like  also  to  be  in  the  same  company,  or  :vt  least  in  tha  same 
regiment  with  yon.  Do.  please  try  and  get  it  so  arranged.  I  would  spare  you  all  this 
trouble  by  going  to  Washington  myself,  if  it  were  not  that  J  sprained  my  ankle  yesterday, 
while  fox  hunting. 

'  And  now,  knowing  that  you  must  be,  surprised  at  this  sudden  derision,  and  curious 
to  know  the  cause  of  it,  J  will  explain  it  all.  You,  from  whom  i  never  kept  a  secret 
before,  will  be  astonished  to  learn  that  ever  since  our  return  bum  VV'esi  Point — yea,  as  i 
have  lately  discovered,  ever  since  I  have  known  her — I  have  loved  Nel|ie  Gardiner,  and 
that  on  the  very  evening  of  your  farewell  visit  to  Fail  held.  1  told  hei  of  my  love.  My 
confession  was  very  flatteringly  received,  and  she  consented  to  yield  me  her  hand  in  mat- 
riage,  if  J  could  gain  her  mother's  consent  to  our  union,  in  due  season  I  waited  on  Mrs. 
d-ardiner.  and  respectfully  requested  her  consent  to  my  forming  an  alliance  with 
her  daughter.  My  petition  was  coUlK-'and  haughtily  received,  and  peremtorily  refused. 
1  respectfully  requested  to  he  made  acquainted  with  the  grounds  of  her  opposition,  when 
she  candidly  admitted  that  to  myself,  personally,  she  had  no  objection,  but  that  the  dis- 
parity in  our  rank  was  too  great  to  make  such  a  connection  desirable— she  won  1,1  never  cop- 
jsenl  to  have  her  daughtai,  in  whose  veins  mingled  (he  blood  cf  four  Governors  and  one- 
President,  marry  the  son  of  a  carpenter.  > 

'  You  may  imagine,  Walter,  if  you  can,  what  my  feelings  were.  However.  I  main- 
tained my  composure;  I  did  not  tell  her  that  'her  sex.  protected  her,'  but  1  thought  it. 
I  merely  reminded  her  very  politely,  that  the  man  who  maintained  toward  our  Saviour, 
the  relation  of  an  earthly  father,  was  a  oaipenter.     To  this  she  vouchsafed  no  reply. 

'At  my.  request,  she  consented  that  Nellie  and  I  should  have  a  parting  interview,  but 
ehe  assured  me  vgry  positively  that  it  must  be  the  last.    1 

'Nellie  was  much  grieved  at  the  reception  her  mother  had  given  my  suit,  and  indig- 
nant that  I  should  have  been  insulted  by  hejn£  treated  as  an  inferior.  Her  mother,  she 
6aid,  was  by  her  father's  will,  her  legal  as  well  as  natural  guardian.  *nd  that  during  her 
minority  she  would  not  offend  her  by  marrying  against  her  wish,  but  that  in  three  vears 
she  would  be  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  unstress  both  uf  herself  and  fortune,  when 
she  would  bestow  them  on  your  unworthy  friend  and  humble  servant  Of  course.  1' 
thanked  the  dear  girl  with  all  my  heart  for  Iter  unmerited  generosity.  We  agreed  then 
"to  wait  until  ishe  should  have  attained  her  majority  :  and,  having  the  utmost  faith,  in 
each  other,  we  have  no  doubt  of  the  final  consummation  of  our  wishes, 

'This  being  the  condition  of  affairs,  you  know  that  it  would  not  he  very  convenient 
•or  proper  for  me  to  remain  in  this  vicinity  ;  hence  my  sudden  decision  to  enter  the  army. 
Of  course  all  that  1  have  fold  you  is  in  the  strictest  qonfldence,  for  the  compact  between 
Nellie  and  myself  is  a  profound  secret,  though  the  affair  of  my  addressing  Miss  Gardiner, 
and  being  rejected  by  her  mother,  lias  been  for  a  week  under  discussion  by  the  Grundy*, 
through  the  agency  of  Bph  Harrison,  I  believe.  Nellie  informed  meat  our  Inst  interview 
that  he  was  a  lover  of  her's,  and  that  his  suit  was  greatly  favored  by  her  mother  and 
his  father, 

'  Be  sure  to  attend  promptly  to  my  request,  and  let  me  know  the  result  as  soon  as 
possible. 

'Very  truly,  yours,  ( '.   Ivsirii.' 

To  thl  communication  Charley  received,  at  an  early  day,  the  following  reply  : 

'Dear  Charley: — Immediately  on  the  receipt  ofyour  letter,  I  called  upon  the  gen- 
tleman you  mentioned,  and  communicated  your  request  to  him.  There  was  no  diffi- 
culty in  getting  you  au. agreeable  position,  and  in  a  few  days  you  will  be  or/lered  to  re- 
port for  duty.  You  will  not  be  able,  however,  as  you  seemed  to  desire,  to  enter  upon 
active  service  in  the  field,  for  it  has  been  determined  to  place  in  the  corps  now  organ- 
izing for  the  expedition  to  Utaii  only  such  officers,  and,  as  far  as  practicable,  men  who 
have  seen  service  iu  the  fieM     In  order  to  do  this,  it  is  necessary  to  withdraw  the  gar- 


A  CHICKAI10M1NY  STORY. 


2$ 


risou  from  several  of  our  fort?,  ami  substitute  raw  troops  in  their  place,  and  amon^ 
these  latter  you  are  assigned  to  duty.     (.l.tptain    Williams.  who.n  you  already 

know  slightly,  has  b-en  appointed  commandant,  at  Port  Alexander,  m  the  North  west  • 
sad  before  i  n  ■  *J  your  letter  ]  had  been  promoted  And  appointed  First  Lieutenant 
under  him.  The  ofchei  lieu  tenantries  aeeVill  untilled,  and  [Job  Harmon,  whg  has  inet 
arrive.;  in  Washi -,-i  m.  desiignvd  applying  for  the  place  of  Second  Lieutenant,  but  (Jol- 
oni;l  I'.,  had  hen,  l,..f«ire  him  and  obtained  it  tor  you,  so  P,  ib  had  to  be  eon  ten  ted  with 
the  junior  rank,  h  ».  ittle  as  we  like  him,  it  seems  that  we  art  to  be  associated  with 
him  sgain.     Hei  seems  to  be  some  strange  latanty  at.work  in  the  matter. 

'  As  tor  the  si  I  your  letter.  1  was  not  so  much  fturprised  as  you  seemed  to 
expect,  I  must  I  ■■■  ■  ■  een  blind  ma  to  have  discovered  the  state  of  yon.r  affections  some 
months  sin  1  must  eon fess  that  Mrs.  Gardiner's  cond'  ;t  d  I  astonish  me  no' 
little,  in  view  ■  trent  partiality  for  you.  am]  the  p|«  seemed  to  take 
in  yo  'iid  her  refer  Bernard  to  you  frequently  as  a  Worthy  model, 
and  Hi,  I  an  -  Mi--  Gardiner.  '  However.  I  suspect  sho  is  influenced  in  this  mat- 
ter, n  ii   in   many  others,   by  her  brother,  Mr.  foibert  Harrison,  senior. 

He  doubt  lews  th  l  would  be  »  tiae  thing  for  the  hopeful  Bob  to  step  into  such 

a  dowry  as  Miss  I    .  ,  ,,  with  a  reversionary  right  to  one  half  of  her  mother's  splen- 

did fortune,     j;  ■  \p<-ets  to  make  a  useful  and  worthy  member  of  society  of  this 

same  hapless   f  he  will,  in  my  opinion,  he  vastly  mistaken.     Bob.  himself,! 

am  persuaded.   I  ,  of  sue])  a  thing;   he  seems,  judging  from   lis   West   Point 

career;.i  rl  liis  -  its  in  Washington,  to  be  bent,  only  on  •  son  Jul;  his  wild  oats;' 

ami  1  will  pre:    t  linit  he  ->v<<\*  a  large*crop '  of  them.  .  ie  tire  agricultural 

parlance  of  Old    •    ■_ 

'  1  hear  thai  I  wuc,h  pleated  since  you  and  I  rank  him.  and  spoke  of  throwing 

Up  his  commiss  |      lis  frie::ds  here  told   him  frankly   thai    nothing   better  could  lie 

obtained  ;   r  hi  to  sequence  of  hts.poor  Stand  ng  at  West   Point,   and    persuaded 

him,  if  ire  ■  •  arms    his  profession.    (  >    remain    where    he   was.      Now.    we 

know  ven  the  choice  <5i   his 'profession,  !'.>,    ►  not  at   all  influenced  by 

bravery  or  a  lo >  y,  for  he  is  quite  innocent  in  both.     He  would  greatly  prefer 

remain  ingpai  h  nothing  to  do  except  spend  money;  but,  his  fattier,  who  has 

a  good  many  i  to  provide  (or,  and  is  said  to  be  heavily  in  debt,  is  determined  to 

quarter  him  on  i  on.' 

'To-morrow  •  .  :  tn  set  off  for  Burt  Alexander.  Hoping  to  be  joined  by  yon 
there  sui  ii    1  i  ver,  Your  frit 

K  W.  Maynabd.' 

A  few  wc««l  m  tie  date  of  this  correspondence,  ,  nmd  Walter  Bnd  Charley 
dotn-  .  'I'iie  garrison  there  was  not  large,  hut  it  was  mainly 
composed  <d  r.i  ■-.  »ud  the  lass  of  iimtrnctiitg  fry  duties, 
armatici  *>l  ihein,  wn%  an  arduous  nm  mmatidant 
Off  'i  incapable  of  peflbrming  duty,  almost  the  whole 
'**•<>'  '  fhe  Pint  and  H  «ond  Lieutenants  acquitted 
tbema  ponsible  situations,  hut  the  utter  incapacity  of  tho 
Third,  or  •  in  was  glaringly  apparent.  Inde  .  Bob  Harrison,  so 
far  fn  rked  his  dutic  in  sawy  possi- 
ble «  ,  ncd  to  the  performai  r;n-, 
tyrannical,  ai  I  ,  that  li<  I  illy  provoked  insubordination  among  the  men,' 
whii  '  Authority  and  address  of  Ids  super  or  officers  to  quell.  Had' 
tflese  Dicei  Lbeis  than  Lieutenants  Maynard  ai  who  knew  him 
Well,  and  had  raei  I  ■  ring  with  ins  i  •  would  have  been  court- 
martialed  \  H  month,  liv.n  their  pat  ibare 
w»der  the  I  i  whicb  it  was  subjected  by  their  quandatu  school-mate  and 
fellow-county  i. 


It  THE  RIVALS: 

The  Fort  was  situated  in  a  wild  and  picturesque  country,  abounding  in  game,  and 
affording  many  charming  prospects;  and  when  their  military  duties  would  permit, 
Walter  and  Charley  amused  themselves  by  hunting  among  these  vast 'wilds,  or  sketch- 
ing such  views  as  they  considered  very  fine.  They  saw  but  little  of  Lieutenant  Harri- 
son, except  on  parade  and  at  the  mess-table,  f<>r  his  leisure  hours  were  mostly  passed  at 
the  public  bouses  of  Luray.  a  thriving  KttW  village  a  few  miles  from  Fort  Alexander. 

Being  constantly  with  Walter,  and  having  his  mind  and  heat?  always  full  of  one 
subject.  Chailey  spoke  frequently  of  Nellie  and  of  the  relation  botween  them  ;  but  to 
Ids  surprise  he  soon  saw,  in  spite  of  his  friend's  self-command,  that  it  was  a  most  un- 
pleasant theme,  that  it  always  left  him  impatient .  gloomy  and  morose.  Htowly  the 
truth  dawned  upon  him;  but  when  at  last  his  mind  had  conceived  a  well-defined  sus- 
picion, he  was  soon  enabled,  by  close  observation  and  various  experiments,  to  confirm  it 
beyond  a  doubt.  The  discovery  gave  him  intense  pain  ;  and  he  ceased  to  speak  on  a 
theme,  which  being  so  unpleasant  to  his  friend,  was  no  longer  a  pleasant  cue.  to  him,  at 
least  in  their  intercourse. 

Walter  was  very  glad  when  Charley  ceased  to  speak  to  him  of  his  love  and  his  hopes, 
for  reminding  him,  as  it- did,  of  his  own  disappointment  nnd  mortification,  it  nearly 
maddened  him.  He  did  not  for  a  moment  suspect  the  cause  of  1  is  silence  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  he  only  knew  that  he  had  strenuously  avoided  the»  topic,  and  he  thought  that  hi& 
j'riend  had  attributed  his  conduct  to  the  indifference  with  which  he  professed  to  regard 
such  matters.  Indeed,  he  seemed  to  have  become  quite  a  cynic — criticised  the  follies 
Knd  frailties  of  the  fair  sex  unmerci fully,  and  ridiculed  the  idea  of  love  as  absurd  and 
preposterous ;  while  at  the  moment,  disappointed  passion  was  consuming  his  very 
vitals;  when  crushed  affections  were  sounding  through  his  soul  a  wail  of  woe  ever  audi- 
ble to  him  above  the  call  of  duty  or  the  voire  of  pleasure;  and  when  jealousy,  with  its 
poisonous  fangs,  fastened  deeply  in  his  heart,  was  fast  eating  out  all  that  was  noble  and 
.;ood  in  his  nature,  rlis  disposition  was  not  naturally  a  good  one,  and  his  curly  train- 
ing had  tended  rather  to  aggravate*  than  improve  it;  but  in  his  long  e-nd  intimate  in- 
tercourse with  Charley  Foster,  be  could  not  fail  to  imbibe  same  good  from  a  character 
so  overflowing  with  all  that  was  noble  and  generous,  lie  could  not  be  misanthropical 
with  such  a  lovely  specimen  of  manhood  always  before  him,  continually  exciting  his 
admiration,  commanding  his  respect,  and  challenging  his  emulation.  The  natural  bias 
t>f  his  mind  to  intrigue  and  chicanery,  was  temporarily  overcome  by  the  influence  of  a 
character  so  eminently  honest  and  ingenuous  as  young  Foster's;  and  hie  natural  mo- 
T'jscnrss  was,  in  p  great  measure,  dispelled  by  the  broad  beams  of  love  and  good-nature 
which  were  constantly  being  radiated  from  Charley's  warm  heart  and  cheerful  counte- 
nance. At  least,  such  was  the  influence  which  bis  friend  had  exercised  over  him  while 
their  friendship  and  mutual  love  was  unimpaired — but  alas,  upon  that  friendship,  so 
warm  and  long,  so  sincere,  jealousy .  cruei  as  the  grave,  had  m  w  intruded.  Only  the 
noblest  natures  can  forgive  and  continue  to  love  a  successful  rival,  and  Walter's  was  far 
from  being  a  noble  nature.  Charley  ^oon  perccivud  a  great  change  in  him,  and  noted 
with  pain  that  Maynard's  manner's,  always  so  cordial  and  unconstrained  to  him,  were 
beginning  now  to  wear  for  him  the  same  restrain)!  and  reserve  that  marked  them  with 
Others;  that  the  few  fitful  gleams  of  the  olden  kindness  and  confidence,  were  alter- 
nately obscured  by  coldness,  or  by  a  peevish  impatience  very  hard  to  bear  with.  Know- 
ing and  pitying  the  cause  of  the  change,  he  endeavored  to  overcome  Walter's  ill-feeling 
by  increasing  kindness  and  cordiality  on  his  part:  but  when  he  found  his  efforts  una- 
vailing, and  saw  that  they  only  increased  the  evil  they  were  designed  to  remedy,  he 
became  offended  In  turn,  and  desisted  from  them.  Thus,  without  any  formal  disagree- 
ment, the  two  were  becoming  gradually  more  and  more  alienated  bom  each  i-iher". — 
Charley,  whose  affections  were  very  ardent,  felt  and  regretted  the  estrangement  acutely, 
the  more  so  as  at  the  fort  they  were  almost  entirely  cut  'off  from  any  other  society. 
And  what  added  to  his  chagrin  greatly,  was  the  circumstance  that  Walter,  while  volun- 
tarily renouncing  his  friendship,  was  beginning  to  court  that  of  Bob  Harrison. 


A  CHICKA.HOMTXY  STORY.  <>? 

r 

To  explain  Lieutenant  Mayoerd's  conduct,  it  is  only  necessary  to  Bay.  that  fir  from 
subduing  his  love  for  Nellie  Gardiner,  as  he  had  at  hV.l  designed  attempting  to  do,  he 
had  permitted  it  to  liold  unbridled  s way  in  his  breast,  and  had  suffered  ')'  to  feed  on  fcho 
wildest  and  most  absurd  hopes.  He  had  secretly  rejoiced  at  Charley's  i'.l-succe  s  with 
Mrs.  (Gardiner,  and  resided  the  delay  which  her  opposition  had  occasioned  to  the 
lovers  as  a  respite  granted  to  him — a  reprieve,  suoh  as  the  condemned  olitniual  hails 
with  jiy.  With  what  satisfaction  did  he  repeat  the  old  and  homely,  but  forcible  adage, 
'There's  many  a  slip 'twist  the  cup  and  the  lip;'  and  how  ardently  did  he  long  for 
that  'slip'  which  would  dash  the  cup  of  happiness  from  Charley's  lip,  that,  a;,  ho 
fondly  hoped,  he  might  press  it  to  his  own.  Often  had  he  racked  his  brain  t  ir  some 
scheme  by  which  he  might  effect  his  desire;  but  noun  offered  of  sufli  ient  pi  .nihility 
I0>  sanction  an  attempt.  He  weekly  saw,  with  growing  rage  *r.d  jealousy,  a  tender  mis- 
sive, in  tho  form  of  a  delicately  scented  atid  exquisitely  directed  letterr  placed  iu  Lieu- 
tenant Foster's  hand;  and  he  frequently  speculate,:  upon  the  expedient  v  of  tampering 
with  this  charming  correspondence;  but  he  was  not  quite  base  euough  for  such  vil- 
lainy, and  so  the-  temptation  was  resisted.  In  the  meantime,  though  despising  Hob 
Harrison  heartily,  he  commenced  Cultivating  his  good  will,  with  a  view  to  making  hini 
useful  in  the  fnti 


CHAlTfcB  V. 

Tne  liu-n  bs-rof  ihegarr,  ■  at  Fori  Alexnnder,  who,  nest  to  Bob  Harrison,  ■•  ;  ■  moat 
trouble  to  the  officers,  and  created  most  disturbance*  among  his  comrade*,  wat  i  ,  irate, 
avouug  foreigner,  in  whose  features,  accen l  and  character,  the  distinguishing  trait*  of  tho 
Preach  and  Italian  were  strangely  mioglod.  He  was  very  young,  exceedingly  active  and 
handsome,  with  s  fine  musical  car  »ud  a  superb  voice,  which  was  often  called  into  rcquir 
sition  to  enliven  the  garrison.  In  his  character  were  blended  the  sparkling  vivacity  of 
the  French  and  the  •  nature  of  the  Italian,  and  while  the  former  qa  il'ty 

made  him  ratlr  with  both  men  and  officers,  the  latter  often  led  biua   tafco 

scrapes  with  the  former,  which  sotm  times  brought  down  upon  him  the  r.hasth-  n   til  it 
was  the  dot)  of  'i,  inflict.     The  offensive  and  tyrannical  manners  of  Lieut, 

Harris*»n  often  t  revoked   him  to  insubordination,  and  he  was  frequently  in  trouble   from 
Which  Lieut.  b\uti*r.  whose  ,'-v>  1  mture  often  got  the  hettcr  of  his  strict  notions  ■•.'  mili- 
tary duty.  h*n  frequently  been  able,  by  intercession  with  hissuperioi  .  t  biro. 
Toward  his  ■  w  *id  lieutenant,  therefore,  Le  Brun,  for  that  was  the  man's  name,  entertained 
. ,;tndc  and  effect  ion,  while  the  ihird  lieutenant  was  hated  with  all 
'the  itj'rnsity  of  his  nature,  though    he  dare  not   indulge  in  an  open  cxpreasi  ui  ol  his 
sentiments.     Lieut.  Mayoard,  too,  for  no  particular  ret  mi  except  the  I  uightl     «  of 
and     'in.'  si                                                           11  led    by  long 
-  on. 
At  length,  al                                                                                 -.  Le  Brun,  who* 
had  been  comparatively  -                    guilty  of  .                                                v  duty,  which 
subjected 
the  powe*  of  thi 

by  his  frequent  u  tho 

ilprit,     II      i  ■ 

• 
know;)   I  cut. 

i  room  wheic  be  was  sitting aloi  II  mere 

u   '  I  im.     Ivxpresaing  his 

wonted  circumstance,  and  iking  such  chaofHst  in  his  toilet  as  he  tho:  ght  the 

bade  the  mill  usher  them  in. 


28  THE  RIVALS: 

In  a  few  moments  the  servant  returned  with  the  visitors.  They  were  both  dressed  in 
biack,  and  closely  veiled;  but  the  gait  and  the  outlines  of '  the  figure  of  one  of  them 
showed  her  to  be  an  elderly  woman  ;  while  the  easy  carriage,  elastic  step  and  pliant 
grace  of  the  elegantly  rounded  figure  of  the  other,  bespoke  lor  her  youth  and  beauty, 
even  without  a  glance  at  ihe  features  so  closely  concealed   by  the  envious  veif. 

When  he  had  s?eu  his  visitors  seated,  Charley  addressed  some  commonplace  remark, 
the  first  that  offered  itself,  about,  the.  weather  or  the  season,  to  the  elder  lady. 

'  She  speaks!  no  English,'  said  the  young  lady,  in  a  peculiarly  rich,  soft  v.."-iee,  and 
with  a  strong  but  interesting  foreign  accent,  at  the  sirne  time  lifting  her  veil  ami  dis- 
closing a  strikingly  beautiful  face,  lighted  up  by  a  pair  of  the  most  magnificent  black 
eyes  om  young  friend  had  ever  seen. 

'But  you  do.  J  am  pleased  to  observe,  Mademoiselle,  said  Lieut.  Foster,  with  a  bow 
and  smile. 

'  Yes,'  she  replied,  'I  speak  your  language  with  tolerable  ease  nud  correctness,  but  not 
as  fluently  as  l  speak  the.  French  and  Italian  tongues;  and  if  Monsieur  prefers,  I  will 
state  my  petition  in  either  of  rhose  languages — for  we  are  come  as  petitioners.' 

Charley  hastened  to  assure  her  that,  from  the  specimen  ho  had  heard  of  it.  her  Eng- 
lish would  much  better  bear  experimenting  with  than  his  French'  and  that  he  was  so 
unfortunate  as  to  have  no  knowledge  of  the  Italian.  #IJe  also  expressed  an  interest  in 
learning  what  had  procured  him  the  honor  of  an  interview  wbk  Mademoiselle,  aud 
assured  her  that  it  would  give  him  great   pleasure  to  serve  her. 

•  We  are  relatives  of  Victor  Le  Bruo,  the  private  in  your  company,  wh  )  has  rist  been 
sentenced  to  snifter  a  cruel  and  ignominious  punishment,'  sftid  the  girl,  'and  having 
often  beard  him  speak  of  your  clemency  and  kindness,  we  have  conic.  Monsieur,  to  beg 
that  you  will  exert  your  influence  in  procuring  a  commutation  of  his  sentence.' 

This  was  said  in  a  vmiee  so  plaintive,  and  at  the  sajne  time  she  fixed  her  fine  eyes  on 
his  face  with  a  look  so  melancholy  and  so,  wistful,  that  Charley  felt  his  compassion 
gteatly  excited.  .  • 

After  a  little  pause.  Li  sat,  Foster  told  her,  in  the  genitlest  forms,  and  with  the  mildest 
manner  he  oould,  that  lie  feared,  his  intercession  would  be  of  no  avail,  as  Le  ISriiu  had 
so  often  abused  the  clemency  shown  him,  that  the  ollicers  were  now  persuaded  tha* 
nothing  but  the  strictest  measures  would  meet  his  case. 

'  I  know  that,  he  is  wayward  and  intractable,'  she  replied,  '  but  he  l:a-  some  good  left 
in  him  still,  which,  if  properly  cultivated,  may  yet  make  him  a  useful  man.  I  know 
him  well  enough  to  feel  s  -sured  that  harshness,  so  far  from  subduing,  will  only  exaspergtte 
him  and  make  him  desperate.  If  he  suffers  his  sentence,  Monsieur,  it  will  he  the  ruin 
of  him.  lie  will  desert,  and  leading  a  wandering,  vagabond  life,  will  bo  fore*  -  lost  t> 
me.  Listen,'"  sin  said,  growing  excited  and  enforcing  her  language  with  a  nunaberpf 
graceful  and  impassioned  gestures,  '  and  1  will  tell  a  little  story  which  must  excite  your 
compassion  : 

'My  father  was  a  Frenchman  and  nn  artist,  and  early  in  life  left  hi*  native  city  of 
Paris  to  study  art  among  the  works  of  the  great  masters  in  Rome.  There  he  married 
my  mother,  and  there  they  lived  very  happily  during  the  first  ten  years  of  my  life;  My 
father's  paint.ii:.  <  began  to  be  much  admired,  ami  his  studio  was  frequently  visited  by 
strangers  sojonri  ing  in  Home.  At  length,  an  American  gentleman,  a  merchant  of  New 
York,  persuaded  nkn  to  remove  to  that  city,  promising  him  a  lucrative  patronage  there. 
We  removed  to.America,  and  by  the  kind  efforts  of  our  patrou,  my  f.i'her  at  once  re- 
ceived a  large  number  of  orders  for  paintings,  which  being  satisfactorily  executed,  le.! 
to  his  bei»g  established  among  the  artists  of  New  York.  Still,  ins  gains  were  small  , 
though  larger  than  iu  Italy  ;  for  art  is  not  very  lucrative,  Monsieur,  either  in  Italy  or 
America  ;  iu  the  former  country  the  people  have  nothing  to  pay,  and  in  the  latter  they 
have  but  little  appreciation  for  its  beauties;  so  when  he  died,  two  years  ago,  he  left  us 
almost  peuniless.  My  mother  had  died  shortly  after  our  arrival  iu  America,  and  our 
kind   benefactor  was  also  dead  ;  but  his  daughter  aided  me  by  procuring  me  a  uumber 


A  CIIICKAHOMINY  STORY.  29 

of  pupils  to  whom  T  gave  lessons  in  music,  painting,  Italian  and  French.  This  lady,  my 
father's  .sister.'  pointing  to  her  companion,  '  managed  our  little  household,  and  we  would 
have  been  very  comfortable  and  happy  but  for  one  tiling.  Victor  had  always  possessed 
a  wayward  disposition,  and  an  ungovernable  te-r.per,  and  by  association  with  the  wild, 
bad  youths  of  the  city,  contracted  many  vicious  habits,  which  grieved  us  greatly.  And, 
at  length.  Monsieur,  about  a  year  after  my  father's  death,  he  was  sent  to  the  Mouse  of 
Correction  lor  a  term  of  twelve  months.  At  the  en  i  of  that  time  he  was  released,  aud 
the  very  day  alter  his  arrival  in  New  York, meeting  with  a  recruiting  officer,  he  enlisted 
in  the  United  States  army.  As  soon  as  we  learned  his  destination,  my  aunt  and  myself 
sold  our  little  effects  in  New  York  and  removed  to  Luray,  to  be  near  him,  that  we  might 
have  him  as  much  as  possible  under  our  influence.  Hois  fond  of  a  military  life,  only 
he  Gnds  the  discipline  rather  strict,  and  here  he  seems  happier  and  better  than  I  ever 
knew  him.  He  has  a  passionate  odmiration  for  you,  Monsieur,  and  if  you  will  only  save 
him  frotn  this  cruel  degradation,  you  will  be  able  to  command  him  ever  afterward. 
But  if  he  suffers  this  punishment  he  will  be  lost  forever.  (),  save  him.'  she  cried,  '  be 
is  my  only  btother,  all  that  is  left  me  in  this  world  to  love  and  care  for.  Save  him,  for 
the  lore  of  the  Holy  Virgin  —  pardon  me,  Monsieur.  I  forgot  that  yon  are  a  protestant — 
but  pardon  him.  fir  the  sake  of  the  Almighty  God,  upon  whose  name  we  all  call,  and 
from  whose  mercy  we  all  hope  for  pardon.' 

At  this  crisis,  the  elder  woman,  perceiving  from  the  manner  and  accent  of  her  niece, 
that  the  case  was  an  extreme  one,  fell  to  weeping,  and  falling  on  her  knees  before  Lieut. 
Foster,  besought  him  in  doleful  accents  to  pardonntr  and  sanv.c,-  son  pdMtSTt  n-n-eu,  ce 
garcon  i    tlheuren  :  qui  etait  oiphelin,  tt  </iti  n'  avaitpas  d'antis. 

Charley  raised  her  up;  and  begging  her  to  be  seated,  promised  ti  do  his  utmost  to 
obtain  a  pardon  for  Lc  Brim,  or  at  least  a  commutation  of  his  sentence. 

By  exerting  himself  to  the  utmost,  and  with  great  difficulty,  our  young  friend  was 
able  to  make* good  his  promise  to  Le  Brim's  relatives,  and  relieve,  the  anxiety  and  distress 
of  his  interesting  sister.  At  his  request  she  had  given  him  her  address,  that  he  might 
be  able  to  report  to  her  from  day  to  day  the  progress  he  was  making  in  his  suit,  and 
several  times  he  found  it  convenient  to  call  on  her  in  Luray,  and  report  in  person.  She 
and  her  sunt  were  occupying  two  rooms  in  a  .small  cottage,  in  the  suburbs  of  the  vil- 
lage, and  though  their  lodgings  were  but  poorly  furnished,  yet  the  genius  and  tastes  of 
Maderrn  iselle  Le  Brun  had  been  able  to  impart  to  them  an  air  of  refinement  and  oven 
elegance.  The  aunt  had  found  employment  in  doing  fine  needle  work  for  the  wealthier 
villagers,  and  Mademoiselle  was  giving  music  lessons  and  painting  miniatures  f>r  *  live- 
lihood. Charley  desired  that  she  would  paint  two  miniatures  of  himself,  one  for  his 
mother  at.d  the  other  for  Nellie,  thinking,  by  paying  her  liberally,  to  assist  so  noble  a 
girl  in  her  Struggle  wi»h  the  world.  Although  she  had  hitherto  refused  to  paint  gen- 
tlemen, yet  she  consented  to  accommodate  him,  in  view  of  his  kindness  to  her  brother, 
and  as  soon  a<  Victor's  case  was  satisfactorily  disposed  of  the  sittings  commenced. 

Mademoiselle  was  an  accomplished  artist,  and  while  she  sat  to  her  work  with  her 
white  lingers  glancing  in  the  sunlight  as  she  rapidly  and  gracefully'  plied,  the  brush,  and 
her  fine  eves,  alternately  veiled  by  her  long,  dark  lashes,  or  raised  to  his  face  with  all 
their  midnight  splendor  beaming  full  upon  him  in  a  scrutinizing  gaz,e,  she  talked  to 
Charley,  in  her  soft  Italian  accent  and  her  pretty  French  vivacity,  of  Italy  and  Koine — 
of  the   i  ,  ind    balmy  air  of  the  one.  and  the  magnificent  ruins  of  the  other. 

She  had  spent  days  with  her  father  in  the  galicrios  of  the  Vatican,  gazing  with  rapture 
on  the  sublime  works  of  old  masters  gathered  there,  and  hours  with  him  sitting  amid  tho 
ruins  of  the  Coliseum,  or  wandering  by  the  Tibw;  talking  of  the  mighty  past  and  sighing 
over  the  sad  present  of  the  '  (,»ucen  of  the  World  ' — the  '  Niobe  of  Nations.'  possessed 
of  a  fine  memory  and  rare  dc.seriptivo  powers,  her  sketches  of  the  scenes  of  her  childhood 
wire  e\tr<;mcly  interesting  to  our  enthusiastic  young  Virginian. 

As,  in  the  course  of  her  brilliant  conversation,  without  pedantry  and- always  with  rare 
adaptation,  he  heard   her  alternately  quote  Virgil,  Tasso,  Uacinc  and  Shakspcare,  each 


30  THE  RIVALS : 

in  the  oiigin^l,  and  B»w  her  at  will,  lay  down  the  pencil  to  take  up  the  lyre,  Lieutenant 
Foster  thought  that  he  had  never  seen  a  woman  so  brilliant  and  accomplished  ;  and  he 
marvelled  at  the  strange  Providence  which  had  made  this  noble  gifted  creature  (he 
sister  of  Victor  !  e  Brim,  and  placed  her,  poor  and  friendless,  among  the  comparatively 
half  civilised  population  of  Luray,  out  in  the  backwoods. 

Cut  off  from  ..11  other  female  society,  he  found  that  of  Mademoiselle  Lc  Brun 
doubly  charming;  and  had  his  nature  been"  less  stable  and  faithful,  and  his  love 
for  Nellie  Gardiner  less  firmly  interwoven  with  his  childhood's  happy  memo- 
ries, wc  fear  that  the  little  Virginia  maiden,  though  beautiful  and  noble-hearted, 
with  her  slight  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  her  slender  stock  of  boarding-school 
accomplishments;  would  have  been  supplanted  by  the  interesting  Italian.  As 
it  was,  his  heart  remained  faithful,  though  lie  admired  Mademoiselle  greatly. 
And  by  the  time  the  miniatures  were  completeel  and  dispatched  to  their  elesti- 
nation,  with  a  glowing  description  of  the  fair  artist,  he  had  prevailed  on  her  to 
give  him  regular  drawing  lessons,  and  to  permit  him  to  exercise  his  rusty  French 
by  almost  daily  readings  or  conversations  with  her.  Although  in  her  gratitude 
,<he  wished  the.*e  favors  to  be  rendered  gratuitously,  yet  young  Foster  insisted 
on  paying  most  liberally  for  her  lessons,  and  besides,  sent  many  presents  of 
books  and  magazines  to  Mademoiselle's  study-tabje,  and  of  game  to  the  cuisine 
of  her  aunt. 

At  length  his  frequent  visits  to  the  cottage  of  Luray  beg:m  to  he  noticed,  and 
were  made  the:  subject  of  remark  at  the  mess  table.  Some  of  the  officers,  among 
others,  Lieutenant  Maynard,  who  had  passed  Miss  Le  Brun  on  the  streets  of 
Luray  occasionally,  but  had  not  been  able  to  judge  of  her  beauty,  as  she  always 
wore-  a  veil  abroad,  professed  to  feel  quite  a  curiosity  to  see  a  lady  so  charming 
as  the  fair  Italian  seamed  to  be,  and  requesteel  Lieutenant  Foster  4,0  introduce 
them  at  the  cottage. 

Now,  often  when  he  had  felt  the  spell  of  her  fascinations  strongest  upon  him, 
Charley  had  wished  that  Walter  could  see  Mademoiselle,  and  had  speculated* 
whether  if  he  could  meet  with  her,  her  brilliant  beauty  and  charming  conversa- 
tion might  not  be  able  to  make  him  forget  his  unfortunate  love  for  Nellie  Gar- 
diner. He  felt  confident  that  such  would  be  the  result  of  an  acquaintance,  and 
he  had  been  several  times  on  the  point  of  inviting  Lieutenant  Maynard  to  accom- 
panv  liini  to  the  cottage,  but  the  growing  coldness  between  them  had  hitherto 
proven  led  his  doing  so.  Now,  however,  that  Walter  had  himself  proposed  it, 
he  oagerJy  accepted  the  proposal,  and  named  an  early  day  for  the  visit.  • 

On  the  other  hand,  Walter's  quick  eye  had  already  observeel  and  had  watched 
with  delight  Charley's  growing  intimacy  with  the  Italian  girl.  Falsely  pre- 
suming his  gayety  and  good  nature  to  betoken  a  shallow  and  fickle  disposition, 
he  hud  no  doubt  "that  Miss  Le  Brun,  if»but  the  half  he  had  heard  of  her  were 
true,  would  supplant  Miss  Gardiner  in  his  rivals  affections.  Anxious  to  see  how 
far  he  had  been  correctly  informed  as  "to  that  young  lady's  charms,  and  how 
far  Lieutenant  Foster  hael  been  influenced  by  them,  he  resolved  on  a  visit  with 
him  to  the  cottage . 

Desiring  to  have  Mademoiselle  impress  Walter  favorably^  Charley,  as  soon  as 
ho  bad  introduced  him,  led  her  to  talk  on  those  subjects  about  which  he  had 
observed  her  tn  be  most  enthusiastic,  called  for  those  songs  which. she  sung  best, 

id  prevailed  on  her  to  exhibit  her  drawings  to  his  friend.  Pleased  with  the 
entionsand  conversations  of  two  gentlemen  so  polite  and  intelligent,  the  lady 
_M  even  more  affable  and  interesting  than  usual,  and  astonished  Lieutenant 
Maynard  by  the  grace  of  her  manners  and  the  brilliancy  of  her  conversation. 
Delighted  to  find  her  so  fascinating,  he  immediately  judged  from  the  impression 
her  charms  had  made  on  him  diiring  one  short  interview—cold  and  calculating 


A  OHICKAIIOMINY  STORY.  21 

as  he  knew  his  nature  to  be — that  they  must,  during  an  intercourse  of  several 
months,  have  completely  captivated  the  imagination  and  enthralled  the  heart 
of  his  ardent  and  susceptible  friend.  This  conviction  so  pleased  him,  and  Made- 
moiselle's conversation  anil  music  were  so  enlivening,  that  he  became  more  ani- 
mated and  cheerful,  more  like  the  Walter  xMaynard  o!  West  Point,  than  Charley 
had  seen  him  for  a  long  time.  Attributing  this  happy,  change  in  bis  friend  en- 
tirely to  pleasure  in  Miss  Le  Brim's  society,  Lieutenant  Poster  mentally  con- 
gratulated himself  on  the  success  of  his  scheme,  and  thought,  as  bo  watched  tin- 
animated  play  of  their  handsome  features,  and  listened  to  the  pleasant  tones  oi 
ir  cheerful  voices,  what  a  fine  couple  they  would  make. 

Thus  mutually  deceived,  after  a  visit  of  several  hours,  the  two  friends  left  the 
cottage,  pleased  with  each  other,  Mademoiselle,  and  all  the  world. 

But  Walter's  complacency  was  a  littl.  disturbed  when  on  calling  at  ihe  cot- 
tage a  few  days  after,  partly  with  the  desire  of  hearing  Mademoiselle  converat  . 
and  partly  with  the  expectation  of  finding  Charley  there,  he  discovered  the  f;tii 
artist  standing  before  her  easel  and  giving  the  finishing  touches  to  an  exquisite 
painting  representing  the  hoseT-suekle  arbor  at  Fairfield,  with  Charley  and 
Nellie  seated  in  it,  almost  in  the  same  position  they  had  occupied  on  the  evening 
of  his  last  visit  there. 

At  the  sight  of  it  he  started  and  turned  pale  ;  but  Mademoiselle,  whb  stood 
with    her   back   to   him,  and  who,  in  the  intense  interest  of  her  occupation    had 
mistaken  him    for    Lieutenant   Foster,  did   not  observe    this."    Without  turning, 
while  she   lightly   and  skillfully   retouched   some  of  the  vine  tendrils  stra 
around  the  figures,  she  asked,  in  a  low,  soft  voice  : 

•Does  it  please  you,  Lieutenant?  1  did  not  intend  that  ybu  should  see  il 
again  until  it  shouid  be  quite  finished,  but  you  have  taken  me  l>;  surprise;  ) 
did  not  expect  yon  until  to-morrow;  However,  you  can  tell  whether  the  lady 
is  right,  at  last.  I  have  deepened  the  M.ish  on  the  cheek,  and  lengthened  the 
eye-laches,  as  you  suggested,  but  these  daguerreotypes  are  such  poor  thin 
oopy  from,  that  I  doubt  whether  I  have  succeeded.  The  arbor  was  a  simple 
afiair,  and  easily  copied  from  your  sketch,  and  yonr  portrait,  rny  aunt  thinks, 
is  excellent — but  is  the  lady  right?  '  she  repeated,  turning  towards  him. 

*  It  could  not  be  better,'  replied  Walter,  bowing  gracefully,  as  hi  r  eye  fell  on 
him.     '  Permit  me  to  congratulate  you,  Mademoiselle,  on  your  p 

and  to  say  that  I  have  seldom  seen  a  more  beautiful  picture.' 

Mademoiselle  started  slightly  at  his  address,  and  it  was  evident  the  sur] 
of  hi-  appearance  was  not  altogether  a  very  pleasant  one.  But  shon  turned  bits 
greeting  very  politely,  and  replied  to  his  observation  by  saying  -lie  <\  ,<  rvedno 
for  the  picture,  except  for  such  manual  skill  as  had  been  displayed  in 
copying  from  the  more  perfect  works  of  nature,  which  had  made  '  dh  Lieuten- 
ant Poster  and  his  companion  very  fair. 

'  This  is  a  little  secret  between  your   friend  and    i. 
the  picture.     'He  entreated   me  to   let  no  one   but  aiy  aunt  sco  it  while   1   w.i> 
painting  it,  and  I  had  obeyed  his  request  until  you  surpr 

'  Do  not  let  that  trouble  you,'  said  Walter.     '  li  will  make  n.,  d  t  all 

with  Lieutenant  Poster.      I  am  w  i  II  known  to  the  la  n  old  friend  of  1 

and  ifave  long  bee..  ited  with   the  relatii  i  tin 

'They  are  i » <■  1 1  ■ » i  li<-  I  :  '   she  said,  interrogatively.  :i\nr_    h    :  .mriiJKr 

on   hi     countenance.. 

He  replied  in  the  aflirmati 

1  And  she  is  very  beautiful,'  she  repeated,  m  the  .-ame  manner. 

•  As  beautiful  as  yen  have  represented  her.  Mad'  sine* 


32  THE  RIVALS: 

the  look  of  life  and  the  changing  expression  of  the  original,  cannot  be*transferred 
to  canvass  by  any  degree  of  art.' 


CHAPTER  VI  • 

Walter's  report  of  Miss  Le  Brun,  after  his  first  visit,  liad  so  influenced  the 
curiosity  of  Bob  Harrison,  that  lie  had  resolved  to  make  her  acquaintance,  if 
possible,  and  so  he  bad  requested  Lieutenant  Foster  to  introduce  hiin.  This 
Charley  refused  to  do,  because  he  knew  that  his  acquaintance  was  not  desired 
by  the  lady,  and  because  he  judged  froi*  the  knowledge  he  had  of  Lieut.  Harri- 
son's character  and  habits,  that  he  was -qui  fie  capable  of  insulting  unprotected 
virtue,  especially  if  it  wore  a  form  so  enticing  as  that  of  the  fair  Italian. 

This  refusal  had  greatly  exasperated  Lieut.  Harrison,  and  lie  hail  tried  hard 
to  make  it  the  occasion  of  a  quairel  between  himself  and  Lieut.  Foster.  But 
Charley  had  resolutely  persisted  in  preserving  his  usual  good  humor,  until  one 
day,  several  weeks  after,  he  received  a  letter  from^Ncllie  in  which  she  spoke  of 
his  intimacy  with  Mademoiselle  L;0  Brun.  '  Do  not  think  me  unreasonably 
jealous,'  she  wrote,  'but  I  hear  so  much  of,her  beauty  and  accomplishments, 
and  of  your  devotion  to  her,  that  T  cannot  help  feeling  uneasy.  lean  readily 
imagine  that  in  your  isolated  condition,  any  female  society  must  be  agreeable, 
but  I  can  scarcely  think  that  mere  admiration  and  friendship  could  suggest  all 
the  attentions  you  are  said  to  bestow  upon  this  pretty  foreigner.  I  have  not  a 
very  high  opinion  of  my  own  personal  charms,  and  f  can  readily  believe  that 
her's  far  exceed  them;  and  though  my  heart  is  faithful  to  its  first  love,  and  I 
can  but  hope  that  yours  is  also,  yet  if  it  should  be  otherwise — if  you  should 
ever  think  your  boyhood's  love  a  delusion,  and  should  ever  find  one  whose  mind 
and  heart  more  fully  meet  the  wants  of  3rour  manhood'.-  nature  than  she  to 
whom  your  earliest  vows  were  plighted,  remember,  that  moment  you  are  free.' 

True  in  every  thought,  word  and  deed  to  Nellie,  and  having  no  memory  of 
the  past,  no  hope  for  the  future,  unconnected  with  her.  it  wounded  Charley 
deeply  to  have  her  entertain  the  slightest  doubt  of  his  fidelity,  And  all  the  in- 
dignation he  was  capable  of  feeling  was  excited  against  the  meddling  mischief- 
maker,  whose  slanderous  misrepresentations 'were  insidiously  undermining  Nel- 
lie's happiness  and  his  own.  He  knew  this  person  to  be  no  other  than  Bob 
Hairison,  and  his  long-suffering  patience  with  that  unworthy  individual  gave 
way  completely  under  this  new  wrong.  He  resolved  to  Call  him  to  account  for 
it,  and  to  make  him  understand  plainly  that  henceforth  there  must  be  an  alter- 
ation fti  his  conduct.     Tn  this  frame  of  mind  he  was  summoned  to  dinner. 

There  were  dining  with  the  mess  that  day  several  visitors,  a  military  friend 
of  Capt.  Williams,  and  a  legal  and  medical  gentleman  from  Luray,  and  they 
were  having  'a  time  of  it.'  The  wine  was  circulating  pretty  freely,  and  Bob 
Harrison,  about  'half  seas  over,'  was  even  more  noisy  and  disgusting  than 
usual.  Most  of  the  company  were  gentlemen,  and  the  toasts  drank  were  such  as 
might  have  been  expected  of  such.  But  Harrison,  possessed  by  his  evil  genius, 
with  unparalleled  audacity,  proposed  a  toast  to  Mademoiselle  Le  Brun  in  lan- 
guage so  coarse  and  obscene  as  to  form  the  grossest  insult  that  could  be  offered 
to  the  name  of  any  lady,  at  the  same  time  winking  at  Charley  most  significantly. 

'Retract  that  instantly,  and  apologize  to  me,  as  the  lady  s  friend,  for  having 
taken  such  a  liberty  with  her  name,  or  I  will  run  my  sword  through  you,'  said 
Lieut.  Foster,  springing  up  and  confronting  Harrison. 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  33 

With  the  eyes  of  the  company  upon  him,  and  the  stimulant  of  th«c  wine  within 
him,  Harrison  refused  to  retract* 

1  Then  liar,  poltroon,  slanderer,  and  meddler,  take  that,'  said  Charley  slapping 
him  in  the  face. 

Lieut.  Harrison  was  furious.  He  would  take  an  insult  from  no  living  man. 
Foster  should  answer  for  it  with  his  life.  If  he  recognized  the  '  code  of  honor,' 
he  would  not  deny  him  the  satisfaction  due  a  gentleman. 

Lieut.  Foster  replied  that  he  was  ready  and  willing  to  accommodate  him  in 
any  manner.     He  could  be  found  at  his  quarters  at  all  times. 

The  challenge  was  sent,  ami  accepted  hy  Foster,  and  time,  place  and  weapons 
agreed  upon. 

Bob. Harrison  chose  the  Doctor  from  Luray,  a  boon  companion  of  his,  for  his 
second,  and  Charley  selected  Walter  Maynard.  The  seconds  -\vezo  to  meet  the 
next  morning  for  the  arrangement  of  some  preliminaries. 

At  an  early  hour  the  next  day,  business  for  the  garrison  called  Licvit.  Foster 
away  from  the  fort,  and  he  did  not  return  until  the  middle  of  the  •afterneon. 
On  his  return,  he  did  not  go  to  his  own, quarters,  but  entered  Lieut.  ?  Taynard's, 
with  a  view  to  learning  the  result  of  the  interview  between  him-  and  Dr.  Smith.' 
But  finding  Walter  asleep,  or  apparently  asleep,  he  did  not  disturb  him  ;•  and 
intending  to  call  in  again  in  a  few  hours,  he  laid  off  his  sword  and  pistol  on  a 
table  under  the  open  window,  and  set  off  for  Luray  to  scttlo  some;  little  biits  he 
owed  there,  in  preparation  for  the  approaching  duel. 

But  Walter  was  not  asleep,  though  he  wa^i  trying  to  quiet  hifj  conscience  by 
the  temporary  oblivion  of  sleep.  He  knew  that  Bob  Harrison's  wrath  had  sub- 
sided, and  that  the  simplest  interference  on  his  part  would  induce  the  p*or  cow- 
ardly fellow  to  apologize  to  Lieut.  Foster,  and  on  the  other  baud,  that  Charley. 
who  had  never  remained  angry  twenty-four  hours  in  his  life,  would  b«  satisfied 
with  an  apology  from  Harrison,  and  with  the  fright  he  had  given  him.  The  laws, 
of  honor  forbade  that  a  proposition  for  an  amicable  adjustment  should  emanate 
immediately  from  the  principals,  but  such  a  suggestion  might  he  made  with  pro- 
priety by  the  seconds;  and  Dr.  Smith  had  delicately  hinted,  during  the  inter- 
view of  the  morning,  that  such  an  adjustment  was  possible;  but  Walter  had 
pretended  not  to  understand  his  drift,  and  hud  gone  on  with  the  arrangements 
for  the  meeting.  This  dud  was  the  very  thing  he  most  desired.  If  Charley 
should  be  killed,  he  thought  there  would  be  no  obstacle  to  his  suit  with  Miss 
Gardiner;  and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  Lieut.  Harrison  should  fall  by  the  baud  of 
his  cousin's  betrothed,  he  thought  that  Nellie  w. mid  never  marry  one  whom 
she  must  regard  as  the  murderer  of  her  relative;  while,  if  neither  should  fall, 
the  circumstance  of  their  having  met  in  mortal  comb.it  Would  so  incense  Nellie's 
family  against  her  lover,  that  he  believed  the  opposition  fco  their  union  would 
be  greater  than  she  would  dare  incur. 

In  the  meantime,  the  affair  of  the  contemplated  duel  had  spread  tlirough  tho 
garrison,  ami  had  excited  a  great  deal  of  interest  among  the  men.  Lieut.  Har- 
rison was  universally  detested  by  them,  while  Lieut.  Foster  was  almosl  idolized, 
and  there  was  but  one  wish  expressed  as  to  the  issue.  ■  But,1  said' one  of  a  group 
of  men  gathered  in  front  of  the  barracks  discussing  the  affair  at  tho  time  when 
Lieut.  Maynard  was  trying  to  forget  it  in  his  sleep,  'aupposc  Lieut.  Harrison 
should  kill  Lieut.  Poster,  what  a  shame  and  what  a  pity  it  would  be.'  They.all 
agreed  that  for  such  a  noble  man  to  fall  by  the  hands  of  such  a  scoundrel,  would 
bo  a  lamentable  affair.    '  He,!  alluding  to  Lieut.  Harris, n.  •'-.  ra)- 

now,^   said   one   of  the  men,  'to  get  drunk,  and  come   bad    here  cursing  an! 
striking  with  bis  -word  the  first  man  who  comes  jn  his  way.  like  he 
5 


34  '  THE  RIVALS  I 

It  would  be  a  fine  thing  if  he  should  fall  in  the  river  on  his  way  back,  and  get 
drowned  before  he  has  a  chance  at  the  life  of  Lieut.  Foster. 

Victor  Le  Brun,  who,  in  spite  of  his  many  faults  and,  follies,  still  entertained 
an  ardent  affection  and  a  profound  respect  for  his  noble  sister,  and  who,  there- 
fore, must  have  been  strongly  interested  in  the 'duel  between  his  officers,  was 
standing  near  during  this  conversation,  but  he  spoke  not  a  word  on  the  subject. 
Indeed,  it  had  been  observed,  lhat  since  he  had  been  informed  of  the  difficulty 
between  Lieutenants  Foster  and  Harrison,  and  its  occasion,  he  had  been  silent 
and  moody.  But  there  was  a  fierce  look  in  his  cold  black  eyes,  and  at  this 
remark  of  his  comrade,  a  dangerous  fire  flashed* from  them  in  a  keen  look  of 
sudden  intelligence,  exultation  and  determination.  However,  he  said  nothing, 
except  to  mutter  an  oath,  as  he  fell  into  line  with  a  squad  of  men  which  th«.-* 
corporal  was  forming  to  go  -and  relieve  guard.  In  addition  to  the  line  of  senti- 
nels maintained  around  the  outside  of  the  fort,  there  was  also  an  inner  line  kept 
up  around  the  officers'  quarters  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  order  among  the 
men;  and  Le  Brim's  post  for  the  next  hour  was  near  Lieut.  Maynard's  window, 
through  which  he  could  see  all  over  the  apartment. 

For  some  time  after  Charley  had  left  th%  room,  Walter  had  tossed  about  rest- 
lessly upon  his  hard,  narrow  camp  bed,  vainly  «ourting  '  nature's  sweet  restorer,' 
which  is  romantically  supposed  to  come  readily  only  at  the  wooing  of  the  inno- 
cent. At  length  he  fell  into  a  dreamy,  dozying  state,  half  sleeping,  half  waking, 
which  was  disturbed  by  many  unpleasant  dreams  of  falling  over  a  precipice,  &c, 
and  of  having  a  gun  aimed  at  his  head;  and  starting  up,  he  could  have  almost 
sworn  that  on  opening  his  eyes  he  had  seen  a  liand  grasping  a  pistol  vanish 
through  the  window.  Shaking  off  the  lethargy  which  oppressed  him,  and  ap- 
proaching the  window,  he  looked  out ;  but  there  was  no  one  near  except  private 
Le  Brun,  who  was  leisurely  walking  his  post,  and  who,  of  course,  would  not 
have  permitted  any  one  to  approach  the  window.  Finding  his  waking  thoughts 
but  little  more  pleasant  than  his  dreams,  he  took  up  a  book  and  tried  to  read : 
and  becoming  interested  in  its  contents,  he  read  until  sunset,  his  usual  hour  for 
a  walk. 

Conducting  from  Fort  Alexander  to  Luray,  and  performing  in  its  curvings  a 
semi-circle  about  five  miles  in  extent,  was  a  fine  military  road  ;  and  branching 
off  from  this  road,  at  a  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  fort,  was  a  nar- 
row foot-path,  leading  through  ravines  and  over  precipices  impassable  except  to 
pedestrians,  by  a  much  nearer  route  to  the  Village.  Passing  out  of  the  fort, 
Walter  proceeded  along  this  road  for  a  mile  or  more  ;  then  retracing  "his  steps 
to  where  the  foot-path  came  into  the  road,  he  seated  himself  on  a  fragment  of 
ro«k  in  the  shadow  of  a  large  boulder  on  the  side  of  the  path  next  to  the  fort, 
and  awaited  the  return  of  Lieut.  Foster,  who,  he  had  learned,  from  a  message 
left  with  his  servant,  was  gone  to  Luray.  It  was  almost  dark  when  he  saw  a 
.  man  approaching  from  the  direction  of  the  village,  and  presuming  it  to  be  Char- 
ley, he  arose,  and  was  about  to  accost  him,  when  perceiving  him,  the  man  sprang 
into  the  bushes  and  ran  off  in  the  direction  of  the  road  leading  to  Luray.  Sup- 
posing him  to  be  one  of  the  men  from  the  garrison  who  had  eluded  the  sentinels 
and  gone  down  to  the  village  without  leave  of  absence,  and  who,  of  course,  was 
anxious  to  avoid  detection,  the  circumstance  did  not,  at  the  time.,  impress  him 
*s  at  all  singular  or  suspicious, 

I  When  he  had  waited  twenty  or  thirty  minutes  longer,  he  was  joined  by  Char- 
ley, Who  asked  him  how  long  it  had  been  since  Lieut.  Harrison  passed,  and 
whether  they  had  had  any  conversation  about  the  meeting  of  the  next  morning. 

Walter  replied  that  he  had  seen  nothing  of  Lieut.  Harrison  since  dinner,  and 
that  he  had  supposed  him  to  be  in  his  quarters  at  the  fort. 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  35 

'That  is  strange,'  replied  Charley;  ' 1  met  Dr.  Smith  about  half  a  mile  outside 
of  the  village,  just  now,  and  he  told  me  lie  had  just  parted  with  him  in  the  path 
leading  to  the  fort.  And  not  wishing  to  have  the  pleasure  of  his  company  on 
the  way  back,  I  detained  tho  Doctor  in  conversation  sometime,  purposely  that 
he  might  have  a  long  start  of  me.  Ho,  could  not  have  been  very  far  ahead,  fori 
heard  the  report  of  his  pistol  while  1  was  talking  with  Smith,  who  wondered 
what  Harrison  could  find  in  the  woods  to  shoot  at  that  hour  of  the  evening — 
certainly  he  has  not  shot  himself.' 

'Not  very  probable,'  said  Lieut.  Maynard.  'He  has  doubtless  reached  the 
fort  by  another  route,  that  which  leads  along  the  river  bank,  for  instance.' 

'  Dr.  Smith  tells  me,'  observed  Charley,  after  a  short  silence,  'that  you  and 
he  have  fixed  upon  to-morrow  afternoon,  at  sunset,  for  the  meeting  between 
Lieut.  Harrison  and  myself,  and  that  pistols  have  been  selected  as  the  weapons. 
This  suits  me  very  well ;  I  have  a  new  pair  which  I  haye  never  used,  and  I  will 
give  them  to  you  in  the  morning  that  you  may  test  them.' 


That  night  Lieui.  Foster  occupied  himself  in  writing  letters  to  his  parents  and 
Nellie,  to  be  delivered  to  them  by  Walter  in  the  event  of  his  falling  in  the  ap- 
preaching  duel.  His  anger  against  his  adversary  had  nearly  cooled,  though  he 
still  felt  that  he  had  been  sorely  wronged  by  him;  and  he  thought  that  a  regard 
for  the  honor  and  fair  fame  of  a  Lady  so  worthy,  so  unfortunate,  and  so  unpro- 
tected as  Mademoiselle  Le  Brun,  was  a  sufficient  excuse  for  his  course  toward 
Bob  Harrison;  still,  he  did  not  feel  very  comfortable  in  the  thought  of  being 
slain  by  such  a  contemptible  antagonist.  Nor  did  he  like  the  thought  of  imbru- 
ing his  hands  in  the  blood  0f  a  fellow-man;  and  before  seeking  his  couch,  for 
the  last  time,  perhaps,  he  magnanimously  r.esolved  to  discharge  his  pistol  in  the 
air.  In  his  lej^er  to  Nellie,  he  gave  her  a  detailed  account  of  his  whole  acquaint- 
ance with  Miss  Le  Brun,  and,  as  he  thought,  entirely  exculpated  himself  from 
the  charge  of  inconstancy.  HcjiIso  explained,  as  fully  as  was  practicable,  the 
origin  and  progress  between  him  and  her  cousin,  and  acquainted  her  with  his 
determination  not  to  take  his  life  in  the  coming  encounter. 

Up  to  a  late  hour  the  next  day,  Lieut.  Harrison  had  not  made  his  appearance 
at  the  fort,  but  Charley  and  Walter  thought  that  he  must  have  passed  the  for- 
mer in  the  woods  on  the  evening  before,  and  gone  back  to  Luray  to  spend  the 
night  with  his  friend,  Dr.  Smith,  until  that  gentleman  arrived  in  search  of  him. 
The  circumstance  of  his  non-appearance  was  certainly  a  very  singular  one,  and 
very  embarrassing  to  his  second,  on  whom  the  task  of  producing  him  in  time  for 
the  meeting  of  the  afternoon  devolved. 

In  the  meantime,  Li.-nt.  Foster,  his  second,  and  the  surgeon  of  the  garrison, 
at  the  appointed  hour,  repaired  to  the  duelling  ground,  a  large  wood  about  two 
miles  from  the  fort,  in  an  opposite  direction  from  Luray. 

When  they  had  been  there  nearly  an  hour,  Dr.  Smith  arrived   without  Lieut. 
Harrison,  and   warm,  weary   and   perplexed   with   his  fruitless  search   for  him 
He  had  sent  out  scouta  in  all  directions,  h<  said,  and  had  himself  searched  all  of 
Harrison 'e  haunts  in   Lnray,  but  without  le  to  discover  any  trace  of 

him.     Nobody  s1  the  fort  or  in  the  village  had  seen  anything  of  him  since  he 
parted  with   him  on  bis  way  to  l'ori  Alexander  on  the  preceding  evening;  and 
he  was  inclined* \o  think   thisamost   mysterious  and  alarming  circu 
Walter  and  Charley,  whb  thought  the}  i         w  Boh  Harrison  pn         wel 

theufrht  it  not  iiupnsMhh'  that  he  ha.i  •  tho.l  m  avoid  the  dangesiBs 

encounter  with  Lieut.  Foster,  and  the  I -»t  n\  amused  atilie  Doc- 

tor's uneasiness,  hut  of  co   1  -■•  they  did  a* 


$Q  THE  RIVALS: 

On  their  return  to  the  fort  at  dark,  they  found  that  Captain  Williams  fully 
shared  the  anxiety  and  apprehensions  of  Dr.  Smith,  and  seemed  disposed*  to 
attach  considerable  importance  to  the  circumstance  of  the  latter's  having  heard 
tine  report  of  a  pistol  soon  after  parting  with  his  friend.  He  thought  it  quite  possible 
that  Lieut.  Harrison  might  have  been  killed  by  the  accident;*  discharge  of  his  own  pis- 
tol, and  not.  altogether  improbable.  At  all  events,  he  had  determine!  to  organize*  party 
uu  the  next  day  to  search  the  wpods  aud  ravines  between  Luray  and  the  fort,  aud  ascer- 
tain to  his  satisfaction  if  there  had  been  foul  play. 

Accordingly,  at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning,  Capt.  Williams'  party  set  out  from 
the  fort  in  search  of  traces  of  Lieut.  Harrison,  while  at  the  sjime  time  another  party, 
headed  by  Dr.  Smith,  started  from  Luray  upon  the  same  errand-  Neither  party  bad 
made  any  discovery  of  anything  the  least  suspicious  until  the  latter  reached  the  small 
r-.ver  over  which  the  i^ath  to  Luray  led,  at  a  distance  of  lees  than  a  mile  from  the  vil- 
lage, and  about  one  and  a  half  from  the  fort.  Cver  this  river,  which  was  at  that  point 
afout  twenty  yards  wide,  was  a  narrow  foot- bridge,  spanning  it  from  cliff  to  clilT,  at  a 
considerable  height  above  the  bosom  of  the  stream  ,  and  near  the  end  of  this  bridge,  on 
tbc  fide  next  to  Fort  Alexander,  some  small  dark  spots,  very  much  resembling  blood, 
were  observed.  The  removal  of  some  loose  earth,  which  appeared  to  have  been  recently 
sprinkled  in  that  vicinity,  disclosed  another  similar  spot  larger  than  a  man's  hand  r  and 
h  part  of  the  hand-rthling  on  one  side  of  the  bridge  had  been  recently  broken,  as  if  by 
the  fall*  of  a  heavy  br-dy  against  it.  A  horrible  suspicion  seized  upon  the  minds  of 
Lieut.  Harrison's  friends  that  he  had  been  waylaid  and  foully  murdered  here,  and  his 
body  thrown  into  the  strea'm  Indeed,  the  spot  tf&s  most  favorable  to  such  a  purpose, 
being  remote,  wild  and  gloorfiy  ;  and  the  concurrence  of  circumstances  leading  to  such  a 
conclusion  was  truly  very  strange. 

They  wefe  not,  however,  left  Ion*  in  conjecture;  for,  on  flragging  the  river. just  below 
r.lie  bridge  on  the  side  next  the  broken  railing,  the  body  of  the  missing  man  whs  recov- 
ered from  the  water.  An  examination  discovered  the  fact  that  he  had  been  shot 
through  the  heart,  and  the  circumstance  of  his  pistol  being  found^oaded  in  every 
barrel,  buckled  up  in  the  rases  or  .sheaths  attached  to  the  belt  arctotd  his  waist,  proved, 
as  well  as  the  nature  of  the  wound  itself,  that  he  could  not  hive  shot  himself,  either  by 
itcoident  or  design      But  who  was  the  murderer  of  Lieut.  Harrison  ? 

While  the  men  who  discovered  the  body  were  drawing  it  to  lire  shore,  another  party, 
v.'ho  had  a  small  boat  just  above  them,  discovered,  lodged  in  a  fa  ft  of  ferns  and  lichens 
growinjr  on  a  small  point  of  rock  which  projected  from  the  bed  of  ^he  river,  a  pistol, 
tic  barrel  of  which  had  been  discharged,  and  the  ball  of  which  exactly  corresponded 
to  the  orifice  of  the  wound. 

•  A  further  examination  of  this  weapon  discovered  the  initials  of  Lieut.  Foster  engraved 
in  small  German  characters  upon  the  silver  plate  on  the  handle,  and  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty in  proving  it  to  be  the  weapon  of  Charley  Foster. 

The  body  of  Lieut.  Harrison  was  carried  to  Luray,  and  a  jury  summoned  to  hold. an 
inquest  over  it.  After  a  careful  examination  of  all  the  facts  presented,  the  jury  rendered 
a  verdict  '  that  Lieut.  Harrison  had  come  to  his  death  by  the  hand  of  some  person  not 
clearly  prove*,  hut  supposed,  from  strong  circumstantial  evidence,  to  be  Lieut.  Foster.' 
Lieut.  Foster  was  accordingly  arrested  aud  committed  to  prison  to  await  his  trial,  whic'h, 
fis  the  term  for  the  sitting  of  the  court  in  Luray  was  very  near,  would  come  off  in  a  few. 
weeks 

The  surprise  universally  created  by  this  circumstance  was  only  equalled  by  the  regret 
it  OCCftMi  ;.ci.i,  ■  Impossible  !  '  was  the  unanimous  verdict — '  impossible  that  Bieut.  F09- 
<  t,  po  frank,  so  brave,  so  generous  and  humane  should  have  committed  an  act  so  un- 
manly, cruel  and  cowardly'.'  Yet  the  factof  his  having  had  a- quarrel  with  the  deceased, 
nud  of '  'a  having  been  seen  to  take  the  same  route,  only  a  short  distance  behind  him,  on 
the  vny  eveniiig  of  the  .murder,  connected  with  the  discovery  .and  identification  ot  the 
p*atol,    ::me(3  a  terrible  chain  of  circumstantial  evidence  against  the  accused. 


A  CFIICKAHOMINY  STORY.  37 

As  to  the  fiif .'■  ving  pursued  the  same  path  that  Lieut.  Harrison  was  mur- 

dered on,  only  a  short  distance  behind  him,  Lieut.  Foster  was  prepared  tn  prove  by 
Dr.  Smith,  the  ifftifhate  friend  of  the  murdered  mm,  that  he  remained  with  him  iu 
conversation  Ion.:  enough  for  Lieut.  Harrison  to  have  reached  the  fort,  and  that  white 
they  were  bonvcrsing,  they  heard  the  report  of  a  pistol  in  his  direction,  and  spoke  ol 
the  cirruhuitftnee  at  tn«  time.  Moreover,  !)r.  Smith  would  testify  that  if  his  friend  Sad 
been  shot  on  the  bridge  betwacn  the  time  when  Lieut.  Foster  had  left  him  and  thai 
at  whir!)  lie  joined  Lieut  Maynard,  ha  must,  have  hoard  the  report  of  the  pistol  Ort  hi* 
way  to  Luray,  wheteis,  he  heard  nothing  of  the  kind.  From  this  evidence,  therefore,  it 
would  appear  that  the  fatal  shot  was  fired  while  Foster  was  talking  with  the  doctor,  at 
the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  bridge. 

But  the  affair  of  the  pistol  was  not  so  easily  cleared  up.  and  no  one  was  moresurpr 
than  Lieut.  Foster  at  th«  circumstance.  He  had  left  his  sword  an  1  pistols  in  Lieut. 
Maynnrd's  room  before  -setting  off  for  Luray.  and  had  not  seen  them  since,  having  or- 
dered his  servant  toe  next  morning  to  get  and  put  them  away  ;  and  he  believed  both  to 
be  in  his  table  drawer  when  the  one  found  in  the  river  was  shown  him.  The  servant, 
on  being  quest:  that  he  had  only  found  one  of  the  pistols  on  Lieut.  Mayunrd's 

table,  and  had  s  that  his  master  had  the  other.     Lieut.  Foster  could  not  prove 

that  ho  had  left  there,  for  Maynard,  though  not  asleep,  as  his  friend  had  BUppoaed, 

did  not  reaily  kno'-^H'nat  the  pistols  had  been  left  on  his  table,  although  he  remembered 
seei!,;:  the  sweii]  (here.  And  tho  half-wakiug  dream  of  seeing  a  hand  grasping  a  pistol 
retreating  through  the  window  was  so  unreal,  that  he  could  nut,  for  the  life  of  him,  tell 
whether  it  bad  beer,  a  dream  or  reality,  therefore,  he  said  nothing  about  it.  But  ho  re- 
membered very  distinctly  having  seer,  a  man  proceeding  from  tho  direction  where  Lieut. 
Harrison's  body  was  found  on  the  evening  of  the  murder  ;  and  being  a  rigid  disciplina- 
rian, he  had,  on  returning  to  the  fort,  instituted  inquiries,  and  found  all  the  men  present 
except  Le  Brun,  who  was  absent  without  leave,  lie  did  not  speak  to  anyone  ol 
circumstance.  1  tin-  Italian  narrowly. 

In  the  meantime.  Captain  Williams  had  telegraphed  to  Lieut   Harrison's  father 
news  of  his   .'..,n's  death,  and   he   had   come  on  to  the  fort  and   removed  the  remains  to 
Virginia  for  Intetment. 

-Ciiar^y  bad  ale  'j'^bed  to  his  father,  who  proceeded  to  Luray  immediately,  em- 
ployed the  best  counsel  to  ne  had,  an  J  by  giving  heavy  bail,  procured  his  son's  releaari 
from  prison. 

When  the  day  )  :r  the  trial  arrived,  the  Court  House  at  Luray  was  crowded  to  it* 
Utmost  capacity  ;  ..  .  among  the  sea  of  anxious  faces  which  met  the  gaze  the  ralm«-  t 
was*  undoubtedly,  that?  of  the  accused.  Assured  by  his'counscl  that  the  evidence  ae,  ■ 
him  would  be  mere  cob-web  in  his  hands,  and  above  all.  sustained  by  the  consciouaneas 
of  his  perfect  innocence,  he  entertained  no  fears  for  the  result  of  the  trial;  though  l,e 
deeply  regretted  the  death  of  Lieutenant  Harrison,  and  the  unfortunate  chain  of  circ 
Maims  which  had    Boplj  sated  him  in  that  sad  affair. 

W  i  ile'the  com1,--  c  the  accused  was  the  most  serene  in  all  that  vast  cro.. 

two  faces  whii  i  redjhe   least  serenity  and    betrayed    the  strongest  internal  cod- 

lhct,  were  those  of  Lieut.  Maynard  and  private  Le  Limn  ;  the.  latter  of  whom  had  been 
the  real  author  of  the  murder,  which   he  committed   partly   from  motives  of  private  re- 
venge, and   pal  cut  the  possibility  of  injury    to  Lieut,  Foster  in  tho  projecte  1 
duel.     The  firmer  was  ^ctiiberately  withBolding  testimony  which    would   certainly 
the  best   friend    be    I  ad  ever  Iiad   from  tho  dark  cjiarges   brought  against  him.  an. I  the 
want  of  which                 •  id  to   his  conviction.     It   ie,  however,  but  ju.itice  to  say, 
Maynard  did»n<                  I  >  permit  Foster  to  be  bung,  if  his  testimony  would  p 
lie   thought    i        -  ;i  my   would    be  suflicient  to  clear  him  ;  and  if  it  sh 
not,  he  iu  tended  I  i  i   _...-e  Le  Lruu,  stating,  concisely,  all  the  facts— of  his  h 
him  standing  for  an  .    i  ;r  opposite,  the  window  where    Lieut.    Fostei's   pistols  dad  been 
left  ;  the  imprest. „:.  b«  Lai  during  that  time  v(  baviug  seen  a  hand  granpiug  a  pistol 


38  THE  RIVALS : 

withdrawn  quiekly  from  the  window  ;  the  circumstance  of  his  seeing  a  man  approach- 
ing from  the  direction  of  the  bridge  who  avoided  him  ;  and  the  further  circumstance  of 
Le  Brun's  having  been  at  that  particular  time  absent  from  the  fort  without  leave,  to- 
gether with  the  suspicious  manner  in  which  the  Italian  had  deported  himself  since  the 
murder.  He  howevever  thought,  as  we  have  remarked,  that  Dr.  Smith's  evidence  would 
be  sufficient  to  clear  Lieutenant  Foster  before  a  legal  tribunal ;  but  he  preferred  that 
enough  suspicion  should  attach  itself  to  the  character  of  the  accused  to  prejudice  him  in 
the  eyes  of  Miss  Gardiner,  her  family,  and  the  world.  He  therefore  remained  silent, 
meanwhile  closely  watching  Le  Brun. 

On  the  other  hand,  Le  Brun  was  in  an  agony  of  anxiety  between  regard  for  his  own 
safety  and  that  of  his  esteemed  officer,  whom  he  loved  with  all  the  ardor  of  his  passion- 
ate nature.  The  report  of  Lieut.  Harrison's  insult  to  his  sister,  and  of  the  manner  in 
which  Lieut.  Foster  had  resented  it,  had  filled  his  soul  with  gratitude  towards  the  lat- 
ter and  revenge  towards  the  former;  and  the  conversation  between  his  comrades,  which 
we  have  repeated,  had  suggested  to  him  the  means  of  gratifying  his  revenge  and  at  the 
same  time  showing  his  gratitude.  Finding  himself,  a  few  moments  later,  opposite 
Lieut.  Mayuard'a  window,  where  a  pair  of  pistols,  which  he  supposed  to  belong  to  that 
gentleman,  were  lying,  and  seeing  that  Walter  was  asleep,  he  had,  as  he  thought,  un- 
observed, stolen  one  of  them,  and  secreted  it  upon  his  person.  He  knew  that  Lieut. 
Harrison  was  absent  in  Luray,  and  he  thought  that  Lieut  Foster  had  not.  returned  from 
his  expedition  of  the  morning  ;  so,  as  soon  as  he  was  relieved  from  his  post  he  stole  out 
from  the  fort,  eluding  the  sentinels  as  he'frequently  did,  and  took  the  path  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Luray.  Secreting  himself  in  the  bushes  on  the  liver  bank,  he  shot  Lieut.  Har- 
rison as-he  was  coming  over  the  bridge.  He  then  rolled  the  body  off  the  bwdge,  and 
threw  the  pistol,  as  he  thought,  into  the  water.  Then  hurriedly  sprinkling  some  lonsa 
earth  over  the  few  spots  of  blued  on  the  bridge,  he  hastily  retraced  !ri-«  Steps  towards 
the  fort. 

The  unlooked  for  turn  wr.ioh  affairs  had  taken  had  greatly  surprised  and  perplexed 
him.  He  had  resolved,  rather  than  see  Lieut.  Foster  suffer  for  his  crime,  to  confess  his 
guilt.  Hence  it  was  that  he  hung  with  such  breathless  anxiety  upon  the  lawyers'  words 
as  they  argued  the  case. 

The  counsel  for  the  defence  dwelt  strongly  upon  the  excell^it  character  of  l he  accusal, 
his  honor,  frankness,  generosity  and  humanity,  the  mildnesT  uf  his  temper,  and  the 
■kindness  of  his  disposition,  which  had  made  him  proverbial  throughout  the  j;irrison  and 
the  village,  and  quoted  the  uumerous  instances,  well  known  to  many,  in  which  he  had 
patiently  and  good-naturedly  overlooked  the  rudeness  of  the  deceased.  He  also  endeav- 
ored to  show  the  absence  of  sufficient  motive  for  the1  commission  of  such  a  Heed.  Having 
proven  Lieut.  Fuster  to  be  brav?  and  hoiJorable3  was  it  not  much  mor-i  probable  that'll** 
would  have  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  presented  him  in  the  contemplated  duel 
of  honorably  and  bravely  obtaining  satisfaction  from  Lieut.  Harrison,  than  to  have 
basely  waylaid  and  murdered  him?  If  the  latter  had  refused  to  grant  him  satisfaction, 
the  circumstance  of  his  asss tilting  him  privately  would  not  seem  so  strange  ;  but  as  all 
of  the  arrangements  for  their  meeting  had  been  completed,  he  regarded  such  a  thing  id 
the  highest  degree  improbable.  Br.t  the  strongest  point  in  the  defence  was  the  evidence 
of  Dr.  Smith.  When  the  weapon  which  killed  Lieut.  Harrison  was  discharged.  Lieut. 
Foster  was  talking  with  that  gentleman,  and  had  remained  with  him  some  time  after- 
wards. .When  they  had  parted,  Dr.  Smith  hao"  consulted  his  watch  to  sen  whether  he 
would  be  iu  time  for  an  appointment  he  had  in  the  village  that  evening  ;  and  when 
Lieut.  Foster  had  joined  Lieut.  Maynard  at  the  other  end  of  the  wood,  the  latter,  grow- 
ing impatient,  was  just  consulting  his  watch,  holding  it  up  in  the  moonlight ;  and  the 
intervening  period  between  the  lime  reported  by  these  gentlemen  on  the  witness-stand, 
Was  barely  sufficient  for  a  rapid  walk  over  the -space  between  them.  If.  therefore, 
Lieut.  Foster,  during  that  walk,  had  shot  Lieut.  Harrison  on  the  bridge.  Dr.  Smith, 
from  his  c'ose  proximity,  must  have  heard  the  report  of  the  pfttol,  whereas  he  emphat- 


A  CHICKAH0MIN1'  STORY.  3# 

liiail.7  declared  that  he  had  heard  nothing  of  the  kind.  Ah  fof  the  circumstance  of 
Lieut.  Foster's  pistol  having  been  used,  he  thought  that  might  be  easily  explained.  Ac- 
cording to  the  testimony  oi'  Lieut.  Maynard  and  of  Mike  Mahony,  the  servaut  of  Lieut. 
Foster,  the  arms  of  the  latter  had  remained  for  some  hours  under  an  open  window,  be- 
>ore  which  the  men  were  frequently  passing ;  and  as,  by  Lieutenant  Maynard's  testi- 
mony, ho  had  been  asleep  duriug  this  time,  nothiug  was  more  probable  than  that  this" 
pistol  had  been  stolen.  Lieut.  Harrison,  it  was  weil  known,  was  extremely  unpopular 
with  his  men,  and  it  was  very  natural  to  suppose  that  some  of  them  had  taken  rtiis 
method,  the  only  one  open  to  them,  of  settling  an  'old  grudge.' 

At  this  point,  Lieu*.  Maynard  looked  towards  Le  Brun,  and  saw  that  his  face  was 
livid  with  terror  and  guilt. 

'  Or,'  said  the  counsel,  '  why  not  suppose  that  Lieut  Maynard  had  shot  Lieut.  Harrison 
with  his  friend's  pistol  ?  He  had  the  opportunity  of  doing  so  ;  for  when  the  fatal  shot 
was  fired  he  was  in  the  wood,  as  he  himself  admitted,  and  alone.  On  the  contrary, 
Lieut.  Foster  was  at  that  time  with  Dr.  Smith.' 

At  this  suggestion  Walter  wiuced  slightly,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  glancing  up  ner- 
vously, caught  the  eye  of  Le  Brun  fixed  upon  him  in  malignant  joy.  He  returned  the 
look  with  one  which  caused  the  Italian,  cowed  and  subdued,  to  turn  his  face  in  another 
direction. 

Having  addressed  himself  in  a  clear,  strong  argument  to  the  minds  of  the  jury,  the 
counsel  next  appealed  most  eloquently  to  their  hearts.  He  spoke  in  a  most  touching 
manner  of  his  client's  youth,  talents,  fiee  character  and  fair  promise ;  of  the  hopes  of 
Jus  aged  parents  centred  in  this  only  son,  and  of  his  country's  claims  upon  bis  6trong 
»rm  and  clear  head  to  uphold  her  rights  and  defend  her  honor  when  occasion  required, 
and  asked  if  this  bright  ^promise,  all  these  fond  hopes  and  reasonable  expectations, 
should  be  sacrificed  to  a  mere  suspicion.  Mauy  eyes  '  unused  to  weep '  grew  moist  un 
der  the  path*. tic  appeal  of  the  eloquent  speaker.  After  listening  attentively  to  the  coun- 
cil on  the  other  side,  the  jury  retired,  and,  after  a  short  absence,  returned  with  their 
verdict.  A  breathless  silence  pervaded  the  assembly.  Le  Brun,  in  breathless  eager- 
ness, hung  forward,  and  Walter  felt  his  heart  stand  still  within  him. 

'Prisoner.' said  the  clerk, '  stand  up!  look  upon  the  foreman.  Gentlemen  of  tbs 
fury — what  say  you,  is  he  guilty  of  the  offence  with  which  he  stands  charged,  or  not  ?  ' 

•  Not  guilty,'  said  the  foreman,  in  a  loud,  emphatic  tone.  The  words  bad  barely 
escaped  his  lipd  when  a  deafening  shout  of  joy  arose  from  the  large  number  of  spectators 
present. 

Le  Brun  deserted  the  fort' that  night,  and  this  circumstance  at  once  caused  him  to  bo 
fiuspected  of  Lieut.  Harrison's  murder,  though  he  was  never  arrested  and  brought  to 
trial. 

Before  his  trial.  Charley  had  written  at  great  length  to  Nellie  ;  but  he  received  no 
reply  until  after  bis  acquittal.  She  war,  nearly  heart-broken  that  he  should  be  charged 
wUh  murder.  Believing  him  to  be  innocent,  she  had  resolved,  if  he  should  be  condemned 
fcWeath,  that  she  would  go  to  him  and  give  her  band  to  him  in  marriage,  regardless  of 
the  objections  of  her  mother,' that  she  might  thus  have  the  privilege  of  soothing  hie 
fast  hours.  But  although  she  and  Bernard  refused  to  believe  him  guilty  of  the  crime 
charged  to  him,  her  mother  and  uncle  could  not  be  persuaded  of  his  innocence,  and 
were  accordingly  violently  incensed  against  him.  Mrs.  Gardiner  was  almost  frantic  at 
the  idea  of  her  daughter's  maintaining  a  matrimonial  engagement  with  her  cousin's 
murderer,  and  commanded  her,  on  the  penalty  of  incurring  her  everlasting  displeasure, 
to  break  the  engagement  at  once.  She  represented  that  not  only  Nellie,  but  her  whole 
family  would  be  forever  disgraced  by  her  marriage  with  a  person  whose  character  was 
under  such  an  imputation,  and  Bbe  taunted  her  with  breaking  her  heart  over  a  man  who 
had  been  willing  to  risk  hu*  life  for  another  woman.  Such  is  tho  weakness  of  humaa 
:iature,  that  this  last  argument  did  not  fail  to  tell  upon  her  resolution.  If  she  had  seen 
him  condemned  to  suffer  innocerjftU:  an  ignominious  death,  and  to  be  cut  off  in  the  prime 


-40  THE  RIVALS : 

of  life  from  all  its  hopes  and  joys,  she  would  have  linked  hor  fate  with  his,  in  spite  of 
every 'agency  which  might  have  opposed,  so  strong  was  her  womanly  love  and  sympa- 
thy. But  when  she  knew  that  he  was  safe  from  the  danger  which  had  threatened-  him, 
she  suffered  her  mother's  counsel  and  influence  to  prevail.  The  letter  in  which  she  in- 
formed him  of  her  decision  was  kind,  though  very  chaste  and  rather  cool.  She  assured 
him  that  she  believed  him  to  be  as  inuocent  as  herself  of  her  cousin's  murder,  but  that 
circumstances  of  recent  occurrence  had  so  increased  her  mother's  opppositiou  to  their 
unioD,thal  she  dared  not  incur  it  further.  In  conclusion,  she  wished  him  much  happi- 
ness and  success  in  life,  and  hinted  at  Miss  Le  Brun's  ability  to  heal  any  wound  she 
might  inflict.  .    . 

This  letter  greatly  shocked  and  grieved  Charles  Foster.  For  some  mqments  after 
reading  it  he  sat  like  one  stunned,  then  holding  it  in  the  flame  of  the  lamp  besiae  him 
until  it  was  quite  consumed,  he  said  to  Walter,  who  was  with  him  :  '  Tt  is  all  over  be- 
tween Nellie  and  myself  now  ;  the  coast  is  clear  for  you  Walter,  or  for  anyone  else,  I 
suppose.' 

This  aunoHnce'ment,  which  Walter  had  so  longed  to  hear,  filled  him  with  a  wicked 
joy ;  but  when  weeks  went  by  aftid  he  observed  the  cruel  change  which  it  had  wrought 
in  his  noble  and  once  joyous  and  bright-hearted  friend,  he  could  not  help  feeling  some- 
times the  keenest  pangs  of  remorse. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  him,  therefote,  when  Lieut.  Foster,  finding  Fort  Alexander, 
with  its  sad  associations,  a  most  unpleasant  abode,  obtaiued  a  transfer  to  a  fort  on  the 
Texas  frontier. 

Before  leaving, Charley  called  on  Mademoiselle  Le  Brim,  for  the  first  time  since  Lieut. 
Harrison's  death,  to  hid  her  good-bye.  He  found  her  much  distressed  at  her  brother's 
disappearance,  and  learning  that  she  desired  to  obtain  a  situation  in  a  school  in  some 
Southern  city,  advised  her  to  go  to  Richmond,  and  offered  to  escort  her  and  her  aunt  to 
that  place.  The  offer  was  accepted,  and  the  three  set  out  immediately  for  Virginia. 
Arriving-  in  Richmond,  Lieut.  Foster  was  not  long  in  obtaining  a  very  lucrative  situa- 
tion in  one  of  the  most  fashionable  schools  in  the  city, 

About  six  months  after  the  departure  of  ywung  Foster  from  the  fort,  Lieut.  Maynard 
obtained  a  furlough  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  Virginia.  While  in  that  State  much  of 
his  time  was  spent  at  Mrs.  Gardiner's,  in. Nellie's  society,  and  one  evening  he  availei 
himself  of  the  opportunity  and  made  that  young  lady  an  offer  of  marriage,  which  was 
declined  very  politely,  but  so  positively  as  to  leave  him  no  ray  of  hope. 


CHAPTER  VII.     ' 

The  harvests  of  Arretium 

This  year  old  men  shall  reap  ; 
This  year  young  boys  in  Uinbro 

Shall  plunge  fhe  struggling  sheep. 
And  in  the  vats  of  Luna, 

This  year  the  must  shall  foam 
Hound  the  white  feet  of  laughing  girls, 

Whose  sires  have  marched  to  Rome. 

,Two  years,  fruitful,  as  are  even  the  smallest  cycles  of  time,  in  changes  both  to  na- 
tions and  individuals,  had  passed  since  the  events  recorded  in  the. last  chapter,  and  their 
flight  brings  us  to  a  period  destined  ever  to  be  remembered  as  among  the  most  memorable 
in  American  history.  As  Vesuvius,  before  casting  out  upon  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii, 
the  vast  mass  of  seething  matter  which  for  years  had  been  burniDg  and  fusing  within  its 


m 

mm"' 


"  Thtn  holding  it  iit  the  f.aw  of  At  i«>-p,"  dc. 


A  CHICKAHOAILVY  STORY.  43 

subterranean  tires,  had  given  frequent  warnings  of  the  great  catastrophe  by  premonitory 
rumblings  and  quakings,  so  the  great  structure  of  the  American  government  had  fre- 
quently been  rocked  to  its  centre  by  the  antagonistic  forces  combined  without  it,  before 
the  smothered  fires  of  sectional  animosity,  party  bitterness  and  fanatical  hate,  burst 
forth  in  all  their  fury,  blasting  and  blighting  a  land  which  nature  had  made  so  fair. 
Upon  the  ears  of  many  the  mutterings  of  the  coming  storm  had  fallen  almost  unheeded, 
until  the  lightning-flashes  from  the  port-holes  of  Sumter,  and  the  thunder  of  the  canuon 
there  announced  that  the  tempest  of  war  had  burst  full  upon  us.  Rut  now  the  tocsiu 
sounded  throughout  the  South,  calling  upon  the  patriots  of  '61  to  arise  aud  drive  back 
the  hordes  of  ruthless  and  barbaric  hirelings,  who  threatened  to  overflow  the  country 
with  one  vast  lava  tide  of  desolation  and  destruction  ;  and  nobly  did  They  respond. 
The  very  earth  seemed  to  shake  beneath  the  tramp  of  gathering  hosts — 

"The  horsftnon  and  the  footmen 

Are  pouring  in  amain 
From  many  a  stately  market  place, 

From  many  a  fruitful  plain  : 
From  many  a  lonely  hamlet, 

Which,  hid  by  beech  and  pine, 
f.ike  an  engle't  nest,  hangs  on  a  crest 

Of  purple  Afipeniue." 

Aral  while  ail  over  tl  ■  Soutl  .  the  hudbaodtnan  was  leaving  las  fields,  the  niechanic 
bis  bhop.  the  merchant  his  counting  ro->tn.  the  lawyer  i  -  office,  and  often  even  the  cler- 
gyman thesecred  desk,  tl  hnCkieon  the  warrior's  ar:n  rv  where  were  the  two  young 
disciples  of  Man*,  whose  adventure*  we  have  recorded  in  the  pit  iiaptere? 

Immediately  un  the  eiet-tiou  of  Abraham  Lincoln  :«>  the  Presidency  of  the  United 
States.  Lient.  lister  had  resigned  his  commission j  a;  d  on  astl  I  rate  Gov- 

ernment had   been  rainy  urgnu  Bed  at  Montgomery,  he  /.<•'  tan  services  to  thai 

government.  They  mere  accepted,  tad  be  had  been  early  appointed  to  active  duty, 
with  the  rank  of  Major. 

As  long  as  t.iia  1  nited  States  Government  had  beer*  administered  by  statesmen ,  ac- 
cording to  the  Coualttntiuii  framed  by  our  Revolutionary  Fathers,  with  an  equal  regard 
for  the  right-,  and  interests  >>i  all  sections  of  the  country.  Lieut.  Foster,  like  the  whole 
people  of  his  native  State,  had  rendered  to  it  the  most  thorough  and^inequivocal  loyalt\ 
of  his  soul.  But  when  he  beheld  the  sceptre,  in  consequence  of  a  long  course  of  political 
chicanery  and  corruption,  grasped  by  a  set  of  fanatval  demayoftues,  who  declared  that 
noble  Constitution  1  coveuant  with  death  and  an  agreement  with  hell/  and  who  were 
pledged  to  use  the  whole  power  and  resources  of  the  country  to  rob  and  oppress  a  large 
and  important  pari  of  it,  he  immediately  renounced  -■  and  de- 

generated a  power,  and  grasped   his  sword    with   .i  uetei-.ru nation  lo  la 
when  deatit  slid-  his  grasp,  or  when  he  sJ  South  fully 

vindicated,  her  wrongs  avenged,  and  her  indepei  '  eru 

tyranny  and  usurpation 

Gold,  calculating  a  ical,  ^ieut.  Maynard  wa    incapable  »(       1  1  senti- 

ment so  generous  and  unst  ;!i.-h  us  patriotism,     And  possessing  no  |  Virginia, 

ar.d  entertainine.  but  little  regard  for  his  relations  there,  he  had.sh  p  ..II  hope 

of  marrying  Nellie  liardic-r.  ceased  to  feel  ar.y  particulai  interest  .  '•  aQnirs  of  his 
mother  Stat".     He  was.  as  he   had  said  to  his  I, rotifer  officers.  1  nne,  with 

nothing  to  lose  and  everything  to  gain,  and  would  follow  any  flag 
wealth  and  fame.     He  was,  also,  as  a  matter  of  course,  unable  to  realize  what  heavy 
sacrifices  noble  and  generous  natures. were  capable  of  making  in  the 
and  equally  unable  to  conjecture  what  powerful    results  such    sacrifices  were  capai 
effecting;  consequently  he.  saw  for  (he  comparatively  feeble  South, only  failure  and  ruin 
in  the faar fill  contest  upon  which  she  was  entcii-u:.    While  for  tho  North,  gloryingio  its 


44  THE  RIVALS:  '    . 

superior  numbers,  multiplied  resources,  and  its  regular  army  and  navy,  he  predicted  the 
most  rapid  and  brilliant  success  ;  and,  in  imagination,  pictured  himself  rising  rapidly  iu 
rank  in  the  victorious  army,  to  a  high,  perhaps  the  chief  command. 

These  visions  were  rather  rudely  shaken  by  the  collision  of  the  'Grand  Army  '  with 
the  '  Rebels  '  on  the  fatal  plains  of  Manassas,  July  21st,  ISC1.  As  he  tried,  in  vain;  to 
rally  the  shattered  remains  of  his  regiment,  which  had  lost  both  its  Colonel  and  Lieuteu- 
ant-Colonel  in  the  bloody  conflict,  and  found  himself  borne  along  irresistibly  with  the 
struggling,  terrified  mass  of  citizens  and  soldiers  who  fled  fur  their  lives  from  the  field 
of  expected  triumph  and  real  disaster,  Major  Maynard  grew  frantic  with  mortification 
and  rage.  Standing  erect  in  his  stirrups,  he  cursed  the  Hying  host,  and  endeavored 
foolishly  to  arrest  their  course  by  cutting  among  them  with  his  swOrd;  but  a  teamster, 
who  had  thrown  out  his  load  of  '  notions  '  designed  for  the  trip  to  Richmond,  to  take  back 
a  load  of  defeated  and  discomfited  Zouaves  to  Washington,  rushed  unceremoniously 
past,  striking  the  haunches  of  the  major's  horse  so  Violently  as  to  cause  him  to  throw 
his  rider  directly  into'the.struggling  mass  of  men  and  animals.  Before  he  could  recover 
himself,  several  of  the  fugitives  had  run  over  him,  and.be  came  near  being  caught  in  the 
•wheel  of  a  caisson.  His  saddle  had  scarcely  been  emptied  when  a  Dutchman  and  an 
Irishman  seized  his  horse,  and  mounting  it,  one  behind  the  other,  were  proceeding 
through  the  crowd  with  a  speed  which  did  gr«at  credit  to  their  horsemanship,  nnd 
effectually  crushed  Major  Maynard's  hopes  of  a  rescue.  Lamed  and  bruised  by  his 
fail;  hatless,  hungry  and  weary,  he  limped  back  through  all  that  fearful  rout  to  "Wash- 
ington, 'a  wiser,  if  not  a  better  man.' 

Major  Foster's  regiment  was  also  on  the  field  at  Manassas,  but  being  on  the  extreme 
right  of  the  Confederate  army,  was  not  engaged  during  the  day. 

On  his  way  to  Manassas,  he  paid  a  hurried  visit  to  ins  parents,  and  had  found  his 
father  in  very  feeble  health.  The  shock  of  arms  at  Manassas  had  scarcely  died  away, 
when  Major  Foster  was  summoned  to  bis  father's  death-bed.        •    0 

During  this  last  visit  home  he  had  twice  seen  Nellie  Gardiner  at  church,  but  not  a 
•word  had  passed  between  them.  Though  the  bright,  rosy  hue  had,  in  a  measure,  faded 
from  her  cheeks,  yet  "Nellie  Gardiner  was  still  beautiful  and  queenly.  Once  only,  while 
in  church,  their  eyes  had  met,  and  in  that  second  each  read  in  the  countenance  of  the 
other  that  the  past  was  not  forgotten — the  lire  had  not  burned  out — the  slightest  breath 
would  fan  the  smouldering  embers  into  a  flame. 


Bernard  Gardiner  was  a  gallant  officer  in  Stuart's  Cavalry,  and -had  been  in  the  dash- 
ing charge  made  by  Radford  on  the  retreating  Yankees  at  Manassas.  He  had  escaped 
unhurt  then,  and  through  several  skirmishes  subsequent  to  the  battle;  but  within  a  few 
weeks  after,  was  seized  with  the  typhoid  fever,  which  was  then  so  prevalent  and  fatal  in 
our  army.  He  appeared  to  be  very  ill  at  first,  and  being  unable  to  perform  duty,  a  fur- 
lough had  been  granted  him  to  go  home  and  remain  until  he  should  recover.  On  his 
way  to  Richmond  he  grew  suddenly  worse,  and  when  he  arrived  wa*. perfectly  delirious. 
Among  a  number  of  sick  soldiers,  and  with  no  friend  or  acquaintance,  he  was  sent  oif  to 
a  hospital,  and  had  been  there  more  than  a  week  before  his  family  knew  of,  his  illuess. 
Then,  having  learned  through  a  letter  from  his  captain  that  he  had  gone  to  Richmond 
sick,  they  niade  inquiries  and  found  that  he  had  been  sent  to  the  Hospital  of  St.  Francis 
de  Sales.  And  most  fortunate  it  was"  for  him  that  he  bad  been  sent  there;  for,  but  for 
the  bind  and  skillful  nursing  he  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  he  would 
Lave  died  before  his  friends  could  have  reached  him.  When  Mrs.  Gardiner  and  Nellie, 
apprised  of' his  whereabouts,  arrived  at  the  hospital,  they  found  him  so  extremely  ill  as 
to  render  his  recovery  doubtful.  For  weeks  his  mother  and  sister  watched  beside  him, 
assisted  by  the  kind  sister  whom  they  had  found  at  his  bed-side.  Under  their  tender 
nursing,  the  invalid  began  slowly  to  rally,  and  finally  gave  promise  of  returning  health. 


A  CHIGKAHOMINY  STORY.  45 

It  was,  however,  several  weeks  before  he  could  be  removed  from  the  hospital.  During 
all  this  time  Nellie  was  with  him  ;  and  was  often  led  to  admire  the  patience  and  devo- 
tion'of  the  noble  women  around  her,  engaged  in  their  laudable  and  noble  work.  Espe- 
cially did  her  heart  warm  with  gratitude  and  admimtion  to  the  one  who  had  been  Ber- 
nard's nurse  in  bis  illness.  This  lady — Sister  Theresa,  as  she  was  called  by  the  sisterhood — 
was.  indeed,  a  most  lovely  and  interesting  woman.  In  spite  of  her  coarse  and  unbecom- 
ing attire,  and  although  her  form  was  languid  and  thin  from  her  arduous  labors  as  a 
nurse,  and  her  eye  dim  and  her  check  pale  with  her  constant  vigils,  yet  she  was  beautiful. 
The  gentleness  of  her  touch  and  the  softness  of  her  voice,  united  to  her  beauty  and  grace, 
made  her  a  great,  favorite  with  the  invalids,  and  her  ministrations  were  eagsrly  sought 
after.  Nellie  frequently  remonstrated  with  her  for  overtasking  her  strength,  and  begged 
her  to  be  more  careful  of  her  health.  To  such  remonstrances  she  would  invariably 
respond —  * 

'Ah!  lady,  it  matters  not  bow  soon  I  may  he  spent  in  my  Master's  service.  All  whom 
I  loved,  or,  at  least,  all  who  loved  me  have  passed  away  from  this  earth  ;  and  I,  too,  am 
done  with  the  pleasures  as  well  as  the  cares  of  life;  only  Us  duties  are  left  to  me.  And 
I  love  to  minister  to  the  wants  and  relievo  the  distress  of  these  sufficing  patriots*.  My 
brother  was  a  soldier,  and  the  best  friend  I  cver.h ad  is  an  officer  in  the  Southern  army  ; 
perhaps  I  may  yet  be  permitted  to  save  the  lives  of  one  or  both  of  them.' 

Af  length  the  young  man  became  string  enough  to  be  carried -home,  and  bidding  fare- 
well to  the  good  sister,  lost  sight  of  her  for  awhile. 

Several  weeks  after  Bernard  had  been  taken  to  Fairfield,  Nellie  visited  Richmond,  tak- 
ing with  her  some  wine,  milk,  «&c,  for  the  patients  at  the  Hospital  of  St.  Francis  do 
Sales,  and  borne  fruit  and  flowers  for  Sister  Theresa.  On  her  arrival  at  the  hospital,  she 
was  informed  by  the  attendant  sisters  that  Sister  Theresa  had  not  been  there  for  more 
than  a  week,  but  was  lying  very  ill  at  the  Asylum.-  Feeling,  as  wc  have  aaid,%  strong 
interest  in  Bernard's  gentle  nurse,  she  resolved  to  call  on  her  there.  Through  the  influ- 
ence of  Sister  Agnes,  whonvshe  had  frequently  seen  at  the  hospital,  Xoilie  was  admitted 
to  the  apartment  of  Sister  Theresa,  whom  she  found  alarmingly  ill.  She  was  lying  on  a 
small,  narrow  bed,  in  a  lethargic  slumber,  her  cheeks  and  lips  scarlet  with  fever,  and  her 
beautiful  features  pinohed  and  haggard  from  the  ravages  of  disease.  Learning  that  no 
hopps  were  entertained  of  her  recovery,  that  she  had  expressed  a  desire  to  see  Uer  before 
losmg  consciousness  and  bad  frequently  spoken  of  her  in  her  delirium,  Ncliie  bugged 
to  be  allowed  to  remain  at  the  Asylum  and  assist  in  nursing  her.  Il'r  request,  was 
granted,  and  having  dismissed  the  carriage,  she  returned  to  Sister  Theresa's  room  and 
took  her  post  by  the  bed-side  of  the  sufferer,  thus  relieving  the  weary  sister  who  had 
been  watching  over  her. 

Being  left  alone  with  the  sleeping  sufferer,  her  attention  was  naturally  attracted  to 
the  pictun  led  against  the  wall.    She  had  understood  that  Sist  v  Theresa  was  an- 

adept  in  the  art  of  painting,  and  supposed  those  which  adorned  her  apartment  wero 
from  her  own  pencil.  The  one  on  which  her  qvca  fell  first,  was  a  picture  of  the  '  Last 
Supper,'  w;th*the  Disciples  gathered  around  their  Master,  Judas  [scatiut  dipping  the  sop, 
and  John  leaning  on  Jesus'  bosom.  It  was  really  a  fine  painting,  being  an  interesting 
subject  a 
that  the 
•expression 
The  likeneu 

the  mystery  grew  deeper  when,  on  approaching  the  picture  which  hung  more  in  the 
shade,  she  discovered  it  to  be  a  Madonna  which,  had  the  face  been  copied  from  her  own, 
could  not  ha\0:  her  more  strongly.    Amazed  and  mystified,  she  knew  not  how 

to  explain  the  at  range  coincidence.  On  a  little  table,  by  the  window,  wis  a  handsome 
portfolio  of  sketches  and  engravings,  and  written  00  the  inside  of  this  pqrtfuli  '.  in  a. 
handwriting  which  boo  immedl  51  ized  as  M  er's.  she  read:  'Midemoi- 

scllo  Theresa  Lu.B.-un,  Luray,  July,  18—.' 


46  THE  RIVALS : 

The  dying  woman ,  Sister  Theresa,  was  then  no-other  than  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
M'lle  Le  Brun,  whose  rivalry  of  herself  had  been  represented  as  so  formidable  and  so. suc- 
cessful. From  what  she  had  seen  of  her  charms,  oven  in  the  plain,  homely  dress  of  her 
order,  she  knew  that  they  had  been  very  powerful ;  but  reason  told  her  that  they  had. 
never  succeeded  in  wiuning  Charley  Foster's  heart  one  moment  from  its  allegiance — else 
why  had  he  failed  to  use  the  opportunity  her  rejection  had  offered  for  his  espousing  the 
Italian  girl?  and'why  had  the  latter  entered  upon  a  eonventieal  life,  if  there  was  any 
hope  for  her  of  a  destiny  in  the  world  so  happy  as  to  be  the  wife  of  Major  Foster?  That 
she  lived  him,  there 'could  be  no.doubt,  Nellie  thought :  else  why  should  she,  who  had 
professed  to  renounce  every  earthly  hope  and  affection,  have  given  his  features  to  the 
Apostle  that  she  might  have  them  always  before  her.  Sister  Theresa's  conversation  and. 
manners  too,  so  melancholy  aud  sad.  had  impressed  her  on  their  first  acquaintance.  ivitH 
the  belief  that  she  had  been  disappointed  in  love.  Out  of  #bis  suspicion  her  imagina- 
tion had  woven  quite  a  little  romance  before  her  visit  to  the  Asylum  ;  and  now  the  whole 
story  was  revealed  to  her.  But  how  had  the  sister  become  acquainted  with  her  face  as 
pictured  in  the  Madonna?  She  knew  that  this  elaborate  painting  could  not  have  been 
executed  since  they  met  at  Bernard's  bed-side,  for  since  that  period,  up  to  her  illness, 
Sister  Theresa  had  .been  constantly  engaged  in  her  noble  work  of  nursing  the  sick  and 
wounded  Confederate  soldiers.  She  was  driven  then  to  the  conclusion  that  Charley  had 
employed  the  fair  artist  to  copy  her  daguerreotype;  and  her  mental  soliloquy  was,  '  0, 
how  I  have  wronged  him  in  doubting  his  fidelity  !  At  the  very  time  when  I  was  taught 
to  believe  that  he  was  forgetting  me  in  the  society  of  this  accomplished  wo'nan,  he  was 
employing  her  talents  to  perpetuate  my  unworthy  image.  I  deserve  to  suffer  for  ever 
having  suspected  one  so  noble  and  so  true  ;  and  suffer  I  must  while  I  live.  'When  this 
poor  girl  found  her  love  to  be  hopeless,  she  could  retire  Within  the  sanctuary  of  her 
church, "and  hide  her  wounded  "heart  under  the  robe  of  a  recluse  ;  but  my  church  offers 
no  such  asylum  ;  and  I  am  condemned  to  mingle  with  the  gay,  thoughtless  daughters  of 
mirth,  and  adopt  their  manners  and  simulate  tbeir  joys, 'when  my  heart  is  breaking.' 
Overcome  by  her  emotion,  she  sat  down  by  the  bed-sido  of  Sister  Theresa  and  wept 
bitterly. 

That  night  Nellie  was  watching  alone  with  the  suffering  sister,  having  prevailed  on 
Sister  Agnes,  whose  turn  it  was  to  watch,  to  bring  her  bed  and  lie  down  on  the  floor, 
when  Sister  Theresa  roused  from  her  deep  slumber  and  asked  for  water.  Nellie  gave  her 
water,  and  when  she  had  taken  that,  she  presented  a  cup  of  wine  whey  to  her  li^s,  and. 
observed,  with  pleasure,  that  she  drank  it  eagerly.  After  drinking  this  she  seamed  much 
revived,  and  shortly  thereafter  was  quite  conscious,  and-  inquired  the  hour.  Nellie  con- 
sulted her  watch,  and  replied  that  it  was  midnight.  The  sick  woman  recognized  her 
voice,  and,  grasping  her  hand,  thanked  her  for  visiting  her,  and  inquired  how  long  she 
had  been  with  her. 

*  I  am  glad  you  have  come/  she  said  in  a  feeble  tone,  fixing  her  languid  eyes  on  'Nel- 
lie's face.  '  I  have  but  a  short  time  to  live,  and  in  my  dying  hour  1  have  a  confession 
to  make  to  you.'  Pointing  to  the  picture  of  the  '  Last  Supper,'  she  inquired  in  a  feeble 
voice:  '  Have  you  examined  that  picture?' 

Nellie  responded  in  the  affirmative,  • 

'  You  haye  recognized  Major  Foster's  features,'  she  said,  glancing  through  the  dim  light 
towards  the  picture  at  the  side  of  her  bed,  'and  doubtless  .you  have.wondered  to  see 
them  there.  And  it  was  wrong  in  me,  who  have  given  up  the  world,  to  retain  any 
trace  of  the  wicked  idolatry  which,  in  spite  of  fast*  and  penauces,  long  divided  my 
heart  with  the  holy  things  which  should  have  possessed  it  exclusively.  But  0,  lady,  you 
Tvho  know  him  and  who  loved  him  once,  can  pardon  my  weakness.  Ile^as  so  kind,  so 
generous,  and  so  noble,  that  1  could  cot  help  loving  him,  although  I  knew  from  the  first 
that  he  loved  another.  For  he  made  no  effort  to  conceal  his  love  for  you,  and  employed 
me  to  paint  your  portjait  from  a  daguerreotype  which  he  always  wore  in  a  locket  next 
to  his  heart.     I  thought,  as  he  delighted  to  think,  that  you  loved  him  ajso  ;  and  I  made 


A  CHIOKAHOMINY  STORY.  47 

no  effort  to  witi  his>  lovo  from  you,  paitly'U  cause  I  thought  it  would  be  impossible,  and 
partly  because  I  thought  it  would  be  wrong.  Yet  you  could  never  have  loved  him  as  ] 
did,  if  you  were  capable  ol'  believing  him  guilty  of  the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged, 
or  even,  if  believing  bim  guilty,  you  could  renounce  him.  Your  rejection  cost  him  dearly; 
he  has  never  been  himself  since.  When  I  found  that  you  had  cast  him  on',  1  would  have 
won  him  if  I  Could ;  but  I  could  not.  And  seeing  that  this  was  impossible,  I  determined, 
on  my  aunt's  death,  to  enter  this  asylum,  that  in  its  seclusion  and  the  right  performance 
of  my  religious  duties,  I  might  forget  a  love  which  had  rendered  me  so  uuhappy.  lie 
loves  you  still,  and  oh  !  promise  me.  that  when  the  confession  I  have  to  make  is  received, 
you  will  believe  him  guiltless,  as  ho  is.  and  make  him  happy  with  your  love. 

'I  am  tbe  Mademoiselle  Le  3run,  of  whom  Lieutenant  Foster  spoke  to  you  in  his  letters 
from  Fort  Al<  xander;  and  J  had  a  brother,  Victor  Le  Brun,  whr>  was  a  private  in  the 
garrisuo  at  that  place  while  Lieutenant  Foster  was  there.  But  or.  the  very  day  after  the 
trial  of  Lieutenant  Foster,  for  the  murder  of  Lieutenant  Harrison,  he  deserted  from  the 
fort,  and  I  never  heard  from  him  afterwards,  until  about  ten  day*  before  my  illness,  when 

he  was  brought  to  the  St.  Francis  de  Sales  Hospital,  from  the Louisiana  regiment, 

ill  with  the  fever.  Notwithstanding  his  miserable  condition  and  changed  appearance, 
I  recognized  him  immediately,  and  devoted  my  whole  time  and  attention  to  him,  vainly 
hoping  to  be  ab'e  to  save  his  life  ;  but  God  had  decreed  otherwis  • — he  di  ;  id  aiewdays 
after  reaching  the  hospital.  During  his  illness,  he  had  frequent  lucid  intervals,  n  ,!  during 
one  of  these  he  confessed  to  me  that  he  murdered  Liei  nam  Ban  won.  His  had;  indeed, 
been  a  wild  and  Wicked  life;  but  be  died  repentant  and  hopeful  of  E  through 

the  atoning  blood  of  our  Saviour.     And  although  he  has  gone  where,  ne  -  opi- 

nion nor  the  penalty  of  the  law  can  reads  him,  T  would  not  expose  inly  that, 

I  think  it  is  due  to  Major  Foster  to  do  so.' 

During  the  latter  part  of  this  communication,  Sister  Thereat  had  spoken  with  great 
difficulty,  ancf  at  its  close  she  began  to  sink  so  suddenly  that  Nellie,  alarmed,  roused  up 
Sister  Agues.  The  pridst  was  summoned  to  administer  the  rites  of  the  church,  and  the 
sisters  gathered  around  the  couch  of  their  dying  companion  to  watch  with  tearfut  eyes 
her  last  moments.  In  a  few  minutes,  the  beautiful  and  unfortunate  Theresa  Le  Brun 
was  no  more.     She  sank  to  sle.ep  as  sweetly  as  a  babe. 


CHAPTER  VI II. 

For  many  months  after  the  battle  of  Manassas,  while  the  '  Grand  Yankee  Army  of  tbe 
Potomac,'  under  the  '  LittU  Napoleon,'  w«s  being  rc-organized,  greatly  augmented,  drilled 
and  equipped  for  one  short  and  brilliant  campaign,  iu  which  Richmond  was  to  bo  taken 
and  the  '  rebellion  crushed,'  "Walter  Maynard  remained  in  glorious  inactivity  in  Lie  camp 
near  Washington.  The  disastrous  result  of  his  first  encounter  with  his  wronged  and 
outraged  countrymen  had  greatlv  disappoiuted  his  expectations,  and  suggested  the  pro- 
bability of  his  having  staked  his  all  on  the  losing  side;  however,  he  thought  it  was  now 
too  late. ta  rectify  his  error,  if  error  he  had  committed.  .After  exhibiting  the  cofrrage 
and  dash  wtikh  ho  was  a.  shown  at  Manassas,  wliile  so  many  around 

1dm  were  giving  evidence  of  cowardice  and  incapacity,  he  thought  that  he  might  expect 
rapid  promotion  in  tbe  Federal'  arm]    i   \  eclal  y  as  it  n  sly  increased. 

But,  greatly  to  his  disappointment  and  d  "held  blat.i  -  irely 

ignorant  of  military  affairs,  appointed  to  high  p  dtioua  in  the  army,  «  men, 

who  had  made  military  i  r  6tudy  i  erior 

offices.    While  political  g<  oerarfl  were  springing  up  around  him  like  mushrooms,  ho  was 
elpwly  advanced  to  the   rank  of  colncel.  ngjy 

opposed  to  tbe  political  tenets  of  those  around  him.  acd  heartily  disgusted 


48  THE  RIVALS: 

coarse  manners  and  loose  morals  of  many  of-  his,  companions  in  arms,  he  began  to  find 
his  position  a  most  embarrassing,  and.,  to  say  the  least,  unpleasant  one. 

In  this  condition  of  affairs,  at  the  opening  of  the  second  campaign,  when  the  scene 
•was  shifted  from  the  Potomac  to  the  Chickahominy,  he  found  himself  once  more  among 
the  scenes  of  his  childhood,  tlis  regiment  was  in  the  advauce  corps  of  McCIellan's  army  ; 
and  as  he  rode  slowly  forward  at  the  head  of  his  men,  each  familiar  spot  upou  which 
his  eye  rested,  recalled  memories  and  awoke  associations  which  stirred  his  soul  to  its 
ve,ry  depths.  Base  renegade  as  he  was,  lie  could  not  witness,  without  emotion,  the  deso- 
lation and  devastation  which  the  depredations  of  the  invading  army  were  inflicting  upon 
the  land  of  his  birth,  which  had  once  been  so  dear  to  him.  The  greater  portion  of  the 
white  inhabitants  had  fled  from  their  homes,  which  had  been  speedily  stripped  of  every 
thing  portable  by  the  hireling  troops;  but  he  frequently  met  with  negroes  ho  had  known, 
who,  having  been  seduced  from  their  masters,  were  following  the  Yankee  army  in  the 
capacity  of  cooks  and  hostlers.  The  bold  impudence  and  reckless,  restless  bearing  ot 
these,  as  contrasted  with  their  former  composed,  contented  demeanor  and  cheerful  polite- 
ness, impressed  him  very  painfully. 

For  &  week  or  more  after  the  arrival  of  the  Yankee  army  in  Hanover,  Col.  Maynard 's 
regiment  was  kept  on  picket  duty  in  the  front  ;  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  it  was  re- 
lieved and  sent  to  the  rear.  Thus  having  much  leisure,'  and  finding  the  time  bang  heavy 
ou  his  hands,  he  took  occasion  to  visit  those  places  within  the  Federal  lines  with  which 
.be  had  been  most  familiar.  The  first  place  he  visited  was  Fairfield,  which  he  had  passed 
wl  .".\  leading  his  regiment  to  their  first  position  4m  th,e  Chickahominy,  n8ar  Mechanics- 
, .  At  the  first  news  of  the  evacuation  of  Yorktown  by  the  Confederates,  Mrs.  Gardiner 
had  removed  her  servants  from  Fairfield  to  a  farm  she  owned  in  a  portion  of  the  State 
not  liable  to  invasion,  and  had  gone  with  her  daughter  to  her  brother's  on  the  Pamunkey 
river.  From  the  first  occupation  of  the  adjoining  county  by  the  Yankees,  her  house  had 
been  used  by  them  as  a  hospital.  When  Maynard  visited  the  plantation/the  destruction 
of  fences,  crops,  and  out-buildings  bad  been  complete ;  and  it  presented  a  scene  of  naked 
desolation  which  he  found  bard  to  recognize  as  the  pleasant,  happy  homestead  of  former 
times.  After  war.dciing  aimlessly  through  the  rooms  in  which  he  had  spent  so  many 
happy  hours,  he  went  out  into  the  garden  and  stood  once  more  before  the  honey-suckle 
arbor,  as  he  had  stood  there  four  years  before  ;  bufc«  how  different  the  scene  that  now 
met  his  view !  The  vines,  laden  with  clusters  of  blossoms  which  perfumed  the  sur- 
rounding atmosphere,  clambered  over  the  arbor  in  the  same  rich  luxuriance,  and  with 
the  same  cheerful  beauty  in  this  fresh  May  air  that  they  had  worn  in  the  golden  autumn 
light  of  that  memorable  afternoon;  but  instead  of  the  two  faif,  graceful  young  figures 
they  had  then  shaded,  he  beheld  half  a  dozen  dirty  Dutchmen,  the. relief-guard,  seated 
around  a  little  table  in  the  arbor,  playing  cards,  with  pipes  iu  their  mouths  and  a  bottle 
of  liquor  near  them.  Instead  of  the  softly-breathed  words  of  love  he  had  then  .over- 
heard, his  ears  were  now  assailed  by  a  volley  of  coars,e  oaths,  uttered  in  broken  English 
or  low  Dutch,  and  enforced  by  rude,  menacing  gestures.  In  disgust,  he  turned  away, 
and  pursued  his  journey  to  the  old  Washington  Henry  Academy. 

The  road  to'this  place  led  past  Pole  Green  church,  the  place  of  worship  which  he  had 
attended  while  a  pupil  at  the  academy.  Reaching  the  church,  an  irresistible  impulse? 
caused  him  to  dismount  and  enter.  The  place  had  been  a  picket-stand  for  cavalry,  and 
the  turf  in  the  ya"rd  was  trampled  and  littered  by  the  horses  ;  the  doors  had  been  torn 
from  the  hinges,  and  many  of  the  window  shutters  broken  up  and  consumed  for  fire- 
wood; the  gilt  clasp  had  been  wrenched  frem  th«  Bible,  and  the  font,  blackened  by 
smoke,  was  lying  in  the  yard  near  a  heap  of  ashes,  where  it  had  evidently  been  used 
for  culinary  purposes;  and,  worse  than  all,  the  walls  of  the  sacred  building  were  de- 
faced by  numerous  vulgar  caricatures  and  obscene  inscriptions.     Col.  Maynard  advanced 

•  to  the  pew.  which  he  used  to  occupy  when  a  boy,  and,  seating  himself  there,  found  a 

*  momentary  pleasure  in  permitting  his  mind  again  to  wander  back  to  the  scenes  of  his 
happy  boyhood  days.    3n  spite  of  the  sad  changes  around  him,  the  power  of  association 


A  CHICKAHOMIXY  STORY.  49 

was  so  strong  as  to  recall  scenes  ami  faces,  many  of  which  he  had  long  since  forgotten, 
and  some  of  which  he  had  vainly  tried  to  forget.  He  seemed  to  see  Charley  Foster's 
bright,  frank,  hoyish  face  beside  him,  as  it  had  been  in  the  happy  olden  time.  When 
he  thought  that  they  were  soon  to  meet  in  deadly  couflict,  a  shudder  ran  through  his 
frame  In  the  soft  sighing  of  the  breeze  through  the  forest,  he  seemed  to  hear  the  rustle 
of  Nellie  Gardiner's  dress  as  she  walked  down  the  aisle,  and  the  flutter  of  her  bonnet 
iibbons  in  the  sweet  Bpriag  air,  as  he  had  often  heard  theru  in  happier  days — with  wliat 
.1  thrill  of  delight.  The  hymns  they  used  to  sing  there,  he  and  Charley  looking  over 
the  satm  hook,  and  the  very  words  he  had  often  heard  from  the  pulpit,  came  back  to 
him  froL  the  shadowy  past.  One  sermon  which  had  deeply  impressed  him  at  the  time, 
and  the  text  of  which  was — '  Be  sv.ro  your  sins  will  find  you  out,' recurred  to  his  memory 
with  such  force  that,  to  divert  the  painful  train  of  thought  it  excited,  he* arose  and  left 
the  church. 

Arriving  at  the  academy-  ho  n^°  had  many  changes  there  to  note;  for  although  tb.9 
Federal  camps  had  not  been  sufiiciontly  convenient  for  the  Northern  vaudals  to  injure  it 
much,  yet  time,  the  great  destroyer,  had  left  his  impress. there.  For  several  years  before 
the  war  the  school  had  been  broken  up.  and  since  its  close  the  academy  buildings  had 
been  let  by  the  trustees  to  a  succession  of  tenants,  each  of  whom  had  contributed  much 
to  despoil  and  nothing  to  improve  the  place.  It  was  now  occupied  by  a  soldier's  family ; 
ri-nd  when  ho  risked  the  sail,  troubled  woman  who  met  him,  to  furnish  him  with  a  snack 
and  permit  him  to  rest  in  her  house  while  it  was  preparing,  she  replied  that  she  could 
only  supply  him  with  a  very  indifferent  one,  as  she  was  very  poor,  her  husband  being  in 
the  Confederate  army  and  their  five  children  being  dependent  on  her  labor  for  subsis- 
tence. The  Yankee  soldiers,  too,  had  stolen  all  of  her  fowls,  destroyed  her  garden,  and 
driven  off  her  only  milch  cow  to  their  camps. 

Maynard  replied  that,  under  these  circumstances,  he  should  be  sorry  to  trouble  her 
farther,  except  to  beg  the  lose  of  a  nip  or  glass,  that  he  might  get  some  water  from 
the  spring.  She  offered  to  have  the  water  brought  for  him,  but  he  declined  the  offer, 
and  walked  off  in  the  direction  of  the  spring,  without  even  inquiring  the  way,  much  to 
the  woman's  surprise,  whr>  was  ^ire  she  had  not  seen  him  there  before. 

The  spring  had  been  a  favorite  haunt  of  his  and  Charley's,  and  was  really  a  very 
beautiful  and  romantic  spot.  .Inst  above  the  place  where  the  cool,  crystal  stream 
gushed  out  of  the  bank,  stood  a  large  beech-tree,  the  smooth  bark  of  which  had  beer* 
sadly  excoriated  by  the  mischievous  penkni\|ps  of  various  ambitious  ones  amoDg  the 
academy  pupils,  who  had  taken  this  method  of  handing  down  their  names  to  posterity. 
When  he  and  Charley,  before  going  to  West  Point,  had  paid  their  farewell  visit  to  the 
academy,  they  had  visited  the  spring,  and  the  latter  had  laughingly  proposed  that  they 
should  each  carve  his  own  an  1  his  sweetheart's  name  on  the  opposite  sides  of  the  tn ••■. 
This  had  been  agreed  to,  and  when  the  work  was  finished,  each  had  read  under  the 
name  of  the  other  the  initials  '  N.  (>.'  There  was  no  rivalry  between  them  then  ;  the 
boyish  love  of  that  period  had  not  been  stroDg  enough  for  jealousy,  and  they  had  only 
joked  each  other  a  little,  good-humoredly,  on  the  coinciuence.  To-day  Walter  slowly 
and  tediously  cut  away  with  his  congress  knife,  all  of  the  tough  bark  over  which  his 
boyish  work  had  spread  in  the  expansion  of  the  tree,  thinking,  as  he  did  so,  that  if  it 
were  left,  future  generations  might  scornfully  point  it  tut  as  the  name  of  a  traitor  and 
renegade.  Ho  wished  no  record  or  remembrance  of  himself  left  here  ;  for  ho  felt  that, 
bis  life  had  been  a  failure,  and  he  knew  that  he  must  now  be  despised  by  those  whose 
good  opinion  he  had  once  desired  to  gain.  He  had  trird  earnestly,  but  vainly,  to  for 
everything  but  the  present,  and,  indeed,  he  desired  at  times,  to  forget  even  that. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour-spent  at  the  spring  he  returned  to  the  house ;  and  the  good 
wcr.an  observed  that  when  ho  returned  the  glass,  with  many  thanks  for  the  me  ol 
his  eyes  looked  red  as  if  ho  had  been  weeping.     He  remained  in  conversation    with  her 
some  time,  making  many  inquiries  about-  the  families  around  the  academy.     He  also 
asked  for  a  description  of  her  cow,  which  he  set  down  on  his  tablets,  and  promised 
*  4 


50  .  THS  RIVALS :  ,     - 

{"Ogssible,  to  rcstore.it  to  her.  On  leaving,  Maynard  slipped  a  gold  dollar  into  the  hand 
of'  each  of  the  five  white-headed  children  who  had  stood  clinging  to  their  mother,  with 
their  thumbs  in  their  mouths  during  the  whole  conversation. 

•Sure  enough,  greatly  to  the  joy  and  surprise  of  the  poor  woman,  her  cow  returned  in 
A  day  or  two;  and  the  Colonel's  Irish  servant  who  drove  it,  brought  also  a  large  bag  oi 
sutler's  stores,  as  a  present,  from  his  master.  As  may  be  supposed.  Walter's  singular 
conduct  on  this 'occasion,  made  a  strong  impression,  and  the  soldier'*,  wife  has  not  yet 
ceased  to  astonish  and  entertain  her  friends  with  a  description  of  the  kind  and  polite 
Yankee  officer  who  restored  her  cow — the  only  gentleman,  she  solemnly  avers,  that  she 
saw  in  the  whole  Federal  army. 

For  several  days  after  his  visit  to  the  academy.  Col.  Maynard  remained  iu  his  teut, 
Fftoody  and  silent;  then,  remembering  that  by  a  secret  movement  of  a  part  of  McCiel- 
ian's  forces,  Poplar  Lodge  was  now  in  the  Yankee  lines,  he  concluded,  to  visit  his  aunts, 
inquire  into  their  condition,  and  assist  them  &s  far  as  miiiht  he  possible.  But  on  hit> 
arrival  there,  he  fonnd  the  place  deserted.  The  Yankee  camp  covered  a  part  of  thfr 
farm,  and  the  soldiers,  as  usual,  had  destroyed  everything  dcstructable  about  the  pre- 
mises. An  artillery  company  had  encamped  in  the  yard,  which  had  been  stripped  of  its 
enclosure,  and  trampled  to  powder  by  the  horses  which  had  been  tethered  to  the  trees. 
The  doors  and  weather-boarding  had  been  stripped  from  the  house,  and  bits  of  charred 
ciahogany  scattered  around,  showed  what  had  been  the  fate  ol"  the  old-fashioned  furni- 
ture which  Miss  Judith  and  Miss  Emeline  had  been  wont  to  keep  bo  brightly  polished. 
The  kitchen  and  Uncle  Thomas'  house  were  as  naked  and  empty  as  the  dwelling,  and 
Walter  had  just  concluded  that  the  family  must  all  have  moved  away  before  the  ad- 
vance of  the  federals,  when,  on  passing  a  cedar  hedge,  which  skirted  the  hill  somo  dis- 
tance below  the  house,  he  heard  a  deep  groan  which  seemed  to  i*sne  from  the  very 
besom  of  the  earth,  and  to  wind  through  a  subterranean  labyrinth  on  its  passage  to  the 
rpper  air.  Pausing  to  listen,  he  heard  a  voice,  which  he  recognized  as  Uncle  Thomas', 
catering  the  following  "prayer: 

'  O,  Lord,  deliver  us!  Good  Lord,  save  us.  O,  Lord,  arise  in  our  defence.  Drive 
back  these  Philistines  that  have  come  up  against  us — these  worse  than  Egyptians,  that 
job  and  despoil  us.  Let  loose  upon  them  the  thunder-bolts  of  Thy  wrath.  Grind  them 
v.ader  the  chariot-wheels  of  Thy  justice.  Scatter  them  as  chaff  before  the  wind.- — 
Smite  them  as  Thou  didst  the  hosts  of  Scnnecharib.  "Overthrow  them  both  hoise  and 
rider  into  the  Pved  Sea  of  thy  destruction.    * 

<  And  Thou,  O  Lord,  who  seest  the  little  sparrows  when  they  fall  upon  the  ground, 
and  hearest  the  young  ravens  when  they  cry  to  Thee,  take  knowledge  ( 1 "i'hy  unworthy 
servant  Thomas.  Suffer  him  not  to  parish,' but  give  him  this  day  his  daily  bread.  Thou 
who  didst  send  the  ravens  to  feed  Elijah  in  the  wilderness,  succor  poor  Thomas.  G 
Lord,  have  mercy/ 

The  plaintive,  sing  song  tone  in  which  this  remarkable  petition  was  uttered,  inter- 
spersed with  indescribable  groans,  would  have  been  truly  ludicrous  if  it  Lad  riot  been  so 
genuinely  pathetic.  Moreover,  Walter  knew  that  Uncle  Thomas,  unlike  most  old  ne- 
groes, though  possessing  many  staunch  virtues,  made  but  little  pretension  to  piety  ;  and 
be  felt  sure  that  only  in  the  greatest  distress  would  he  be  driveu  to  his  knees  with  this 
fervent,  if  not  very  orthodox,  invocation  of  the  Almighty.  His  unique  prayer,  while 
evincing  a  considerable  knowledge  of  Bible  history,  betrayed  such  an  ignorance  of  the 
true  gospel  spirit,  as  has  been  of  late  glaringly  displayed  by  many  who  make  much 
greater  pretensions  and  have  enjoyed  many  more  opportunities  than  Uncle  Thomas. 
So  thought  Col.  Maynard,  who,  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  had  sometimes  listened  to  the 
'blood  and  thunder'  political  harangues  which  disgrace  so  many  Northern  pulpits.  But 
i  e  did  not  take  time  to  moralize  much,  for  anxious  to  learn  the  condition  and  where- 
abouts of  his  aunts,  he  crept  through  an  opening  in  the  hedge,  and  accosted  the  old  negro. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice,  Uncle  Thomas  rolled  up  his  eyes,  tare?/  up  his  Lands,  and 
Uttered  another  long,  deep  groan. 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  51 

1  How  are  yon,  Uncle  Thomas  ?'  repeated  Walter. 

'Miserable!  miserable!  rnh.cd !'  groaned  the  old  man.  *  Thousands  would'ut  repair 
the  damage;  'and  we  havn't  got  a  cent.  Times  was  so  hard  that  we  could  hardly  live 
before  ;  and  now  we  are  bound  to  starve.  Thousands  wouldn't  replace  what  we've  lost ; 
every  living  thing  eaten  up;  every  green  thing  devoured  by  these  blue-legged  locusts; 
the  bouse  pulled  all  to  pieces  ;  the  fences  all  burnt.;  the  horse  stolen  ;  the  very  furniture 
that  used  to  stand  in  your  grandfather's  drawing-room  taken  for  firewood.  God  knowe 
(  tried  to  save  something;  but  they  cussed  me,  called  me  a '  Rebel  nigger,'  and  threat- 
ened to  stick  their  bagooets  in  m*.  I  asked  'em  was  that  the  way  for  gemmen  to 
behave  ;  and  they  cussed  me  again,  and  asked  me  what  did  I  know  'bout  gemmon.  ] 
told  them  I  had  been  raised  with  gemmen,  and  by  gemmen  that  wouldn't  'a  had  a  Yan- 
kee to  black  thar  boots;  and  at  that,  one  that  they  called  the  corporal,  knocked  me 
down.  Here  is  the  place  he  struck,  you  can  see  il  now,'  said  Uncle  Thomas,  pointing  to 
his  forehead,  where  a  large  coutusion  was  visible. 

•Well,  what  else  could  you  expect,  if  you  were  impertinent  to  them?'  asked  Col. 
Maynarrl. 

'La!  Mars  Walter,  you  can't  sarst  them  people  ;  they  ain't  no  better' u  niggers,  nor 
no  good,  in  my  opinion.  AH  that  will  turn  ginst  thar  marsters  and  go  with  them,  and 
lie  and  steal  for  them,  it's  'hail  fellow,  well  met/  they  are  gemmen ;  but  them  that  stay? 
with  their  marsters  and  mistresses  that  has  raised  'em,  are  infernal  niggers!  Why,  at 
the  very  time  they  was  stealing  and  destroying  everything  here,  they  had  Smith's  John, 
the  grandest  rogue  and  liar  in  the  county  of  Hanaracro,  with  'em,  wclkiu'  arm  in  arm,- 
and  wiastlin'  and  tusslin'  with  him  ;  and  he  wasaggin'  'em  on,  tellin'  them  that  I  guided 
the  'Rebels'  bout  here,  and  fed  thar  pickets.  A  grand  rascal ;  he  owed  me  a  grudge  for 
« atchin'  hi; a  stealin'  Mies  Judith's  turkeys  last  winter,  and  carryin'  him  before  the  mag- 
istrate. *  He  got  thirty- nine  lashes  then,  and  I  wish  it  had  bin  thirty-nine  hundred.' 

'  We!!,* said  Walter.  '  how  much  of  John's  information  was  true.' 

'Why.  you  see.'  said  Uncle  Thomas,  scratching  his  head,  'when  these  Yankees  was 
advancin'  forward  here,  and  our  people  advancin'  back  before  'em,  Mars  Bernard  Gard- 
er  and  some  of  his  men  stood  picket  near  the  Lodge  gate  a  day  and  night,  and  as  they 
didn't  have  but  mighty  little  to  eat,  I  cooked  up  some  eggs  and  chickens  and  bread  and 
-  arried  it  to  them.  And  one  day.  when  Mars  Charley  Foster  and  some  cavalry  come  by 
here  reconnoitering,  I  just  told  'em  whir  ten  Yankees  was  standing  picket,  and  they 
surrounded  'em  and  patched  'cm.  But  John  didn't  know  nothing  'bout  this;  'twas  8 
-ecret  between  me  an'  them,  and  he  just  told  what  he  did  for  a  lie.' 

'  But  ray  aunts.'  said  Walter, '  where  are  they  7  and  have  they  saved  nothing  ?' 

'They  went  to  Richmond,  thank  the  Ix>rd,  and  carrieJ  all  of  the  servants  but  me, 
and  the  plate  and  family  portraits,  aud  their  clothes,  and  tie  beds  and  table  linen.  I 
was  left  here,  by  my  owe  request,  to  take  care  of  the  things— a  miserable  old  fool  that 
(  was.  Why.  I  might  as  well  'a  been  dropped  in  James  river  and  told  to  keep  my  feet 
dry.  They've  made  a  clean  sweep  of  it.  My  axe  and  frying  pan  and  a  little  bag  of 
meal  was  the  last  things  left,  r.nd  yesterday  when  I  put  on  a,  hoe-cake  to  bake  and  went 
to  look  for  some  blackberries  to  eat  with  it  for  my  dim.,  r — for  you  know,  Mars  Walter, 
I  never  was  used  to  eating  dry  bread— they  come  and  stole  them — hoe-cake  and  all — and 
since  then  I  aint  had  Qtthiqg  but  blackberries  to  eat  ;  and  my  stomach  begins  to  feel 
eighty  weak.' 

'  I  will  sec  that  you  do  ret  suffer,'  said  Walter,  '  but  you  spoke  just  now  of  having 
seen  Charley  Foster.     Was  he  well  ?    And  what  is  his  rank  in  the  Southern  army  ?' 

•  He  is  a  Colonel,'  was  tre  reply, '  and  when  T  saw  him  riding  at  the  head  of  his  regi- 
ment, looking  so  grard  and  so  handsome,  that  time  I  drove  the  ladies  over  to  sec  the 
review,  you  can't  thir.k,  Mar?  Walter,  how  I  wished  you  bad  I  een  there  too.' 

'  Wei',  I  am  a  Holerc'  oa  it  is,'  cteerved  Walter,  '  and  if  yov.  will  go  ever  to  the  camp 


52  THE  RIVALS: 

of  my  division  when  we  have  our  next  review.  I  will  engage  In  show  you  a  much  finer 
spectacle  than  the  Southern  army  can  afford;  for  our  men  are  splendidly  equipped, 
while  the  Confederates,  I  hear,  are  both  dirty  and  ragged.' 

'  Well,  that  may  be,'  said  Uncle  Thomas,  shaking  his  head,  '  but  fine  feathers  don't 
make  fine  birds.  I  know  one  thing,  our  men  was  all  around  Poplar.  Lodge  for  more- 
than  a  week,  and  not  so  much  as  a  chicken  was  stolen,  while  these  Yankees  hadn't  been 
here  three  days  before  they  had  everything — even  down  to  my  axe  aud  frying  pan  and 
little  bag  of  meal,  as  I  was  telling  you.' 

'Never  mind,' replied  Colonel  Maynard,  'I  will  repair  your  losses,  as  far  as  I   can. 
But  how  were  my  aunts  when  you  saw  them  last  ?     And  what  have  they  been  intet 
iDg  theYnselves  in  since  I  was  in  Virginia.     Do  they  ever  speak  of  me  ?' 

'Ah!  that  they  do,'  said  Thomas  sadly  ;  '  and  I  can  assure  you,  sir,  that  your  course, 
in  taking  sides  with  the  Yankees,  and  turning  your  sword  against  Old  Virginny,  as  Miss 
Judith  says,  has  grieved  them  mightily.  Your  conduct  has  caused  them  to  be  mistrust- 
ed and  doubted,  and  brought  disgrace  upon  them.  Miss  Emcline  says  that  when  it  was 
first  known  about  here,  that  you  had  goue  with  the  Yankees,  the  As,  and  B's  and  G's, 
all  old  friends  of  the  family,  would  scarcely  speak  to  her  at  church.  But  since  it  is  known 
how  distressed  and  angry  they  are  at  your  course,  people  begin  .to  pity  them  and  notion 
them  a  great  deal.  Miss  Judith  says  it  nearly  breaks  her  heart  that  a  Maynard  should 
be  a  traitor  to  his  country.  And  when  Mrs.  Harrison,  and  Mrs.  Gardiner,  and  Miss 
Nellie  were  dining  here  last  summer,  they  were,  talking  about  you,  and  called"  you  a 
Benedict  Arnold,  a  Judas  Iscariot,  a  renegade,  and  all  sorts  of  names.' 

'Well,  you  need  not  repeat  any  more  of  their  compliments.'  said  Walter;  '  I  could 
thank  them  to  confine  their  attention  to  their  own  affairs, and  let  mine  alone.  But  pray.. 
is  Miss  Nellie  Gardiner  still  unmarried?  and  where  is  she  at  this  time  ?' 

'  She  is  at  her  uncle  Harrison's,'  replied  Uncle  Thomas,  '  and  is  not  married :  and  1 
heard  her  tell  Miss  Emeline  last  summer,  when  she  was  joking  her  about  a  Geaevai 
somebody  from  the  South,  that  she  never  meant  to  be.' 

Arriving  again  at  camp,  a  passport  was  obtained,  and  Uncle  Thomas  sent  bey'ond  the 
Yankee  lines. 

*  As  soon  as  Walter  had  heard  that  Miss  Gardner  was  in  their  lines,  and  therefore,  as 
he  thought,  accessible  to  him,  a  fierce  and  unconquerable  desire  to  see  her  took  posses* 
sion  of  his  soul.  And  having  occasion  to  visit  the  White  House  a  few  days  afterwards. 
he  determined  to  make  a  detour  by  Mr.  Harrison  s,  pay  his  respects  to  the  Ladies  there, 
and  offer  to  assist  them  as  far  as  he  could,  while  the  Federal  army  might  be  round  them. 

When  he  was  approaching  the  house  he  saw  about  a  dozen  stragglers  from  the  Yan- 
kee army  in  the  yard  and  garden,  shooting  the  chickens,  gathering  the  strawberries,  and 
committing  all  sorts  of  depredations.  A  servant  had  just  been  to  them  with  a  message, 
which  was  received  with  shouts  of  coarse  laughter  ;  and  on  her  return,  a  head,  which  he 
recognized  as  Nellie's,  was  put  out  of  an  upper  window,  and  in  a  voice  of  gentle  en- 
treaty, she  begged  that  they  would  leave  a  few  of  the  strawberries  for  a  sick  lady  who 
could  eat  nothing  else,  addiug  that  there  were  very  few  rtpo,  and  that^hey  had  not  yet 
had  a  dish  for  the  family.    »  (    * 

'Ha!  ha  !  hal'  laughed  the  Yankees,  cramming  in  the  strawberries  with  both  hands; 

*  we  ain't  had  none  yit.'  Then  one  of  the  worst  looking  of  the  set  cried  out  that  she  bad 
better  mind  how  she  showed  her  d — d  pretty  face,  or  they  would  leave  the  strawberries, 
and  come  after  her. 

Galloping  up  to  the  garden,  Col.  Maynard  drew  his  pistol  on  the  stragglers,  and  ordered 

them  to  disperse.     They  hastened  to  obey,  and  scampered  in  all  directions.     When 

he  had  seen  the  last  one  leave  the  premises,  he  entered  the  house  and  sent  up  his  card  to 

Miss  Gardiner.    In  a  few  minutes  it  was  returned,  with  the  following  words  written  in 

•  pencil  od  the  reverse:  ' 

'  Miss  Gardiner  acknowledges  and  desires  no  acquaintance  with  the  enemies  of  her 
country.' 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  53 

Mortified  beyond  expression,  and  wounded  to  tbc  quick,  Col.  Mayuard  remounted  his 
hone  and  galloped  back  to  camp. 

The  next  day  Col.  Maynard's  regin^er.l  was  again  ordered  to  the  front ;  and  during 
?! :■;  grand  series  of  battles  and  skirmishes  which  filled  up  the  next  few  weeks,  beginning 
with  the  battle  of  Hanover  Court  FTonse,  and  culminating  in  the  seven  days'  fighting 
around  Richmond,  he  was  kept  so  actively  engaged  as  to  have  but  little  time  for  the  ter- 
rible thoughts  which  haunted  him  whenever  bis  mind  and  body  were  at  rest. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

It  was  the  27th  .luno.  1862  ;  and  before  the  Confederate  capital  two  powerful  armies 

were  drawn  up,   prepared  for  the  fearful  Conflict  which  was   to  decide  the  fato  of  that 

much  coveted  city.     During  several  houss  of  the  preceding  afternoon,  portions  of  the 

two  armies  bad  been  hotly  engaged,  on  McClellan'e  extreme  right,  near  Mccbamcsvillc ; 

the  Federals   had  been  driven  from  their   position  tlftre.     Stonewall  Jackson,  the 

hero  of  many  victories,  was  leading  his  invincible  little  army,  flushed  with  the  glory  of 

ti  !  Valley   campaign,   by  rapid  marches  to   the  assistance  of  their  over-matched  com- 

<  before  Richmond.     Indeed,  on  the  morning  the  27th,  they  had  already  penetrated 

Yankee  line-,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  I'ole  Green  Church,  were  preparing,  by  a  short 

rest,  to  be  burled  like  an  avalanche  upon  the  enemy.     But  the  Federal  army,  in  vastly 

superior  numbers,  armed  with  the  most  improved  weapons,  equipped  and  supplied  with 

a  thoroughness  and  elaborateness  rarely  excelled,  and  occupying  well  chosen  positions  of 

_     it  natural  strength,  onposod  a  most  formidable  fiont  to  the  Confederate  forces. 

[n  this  condition  of  affairs,  nothing  could  be  more  doubtful  than  the  issue  of  the  ap- 
uohiug  battle  ;  and  only  tbe  All-seeing  God  could  tell  what  were  the  emotions  of  the 

tabitants  of  Richmond  and  the  sourrounding  country,  as  they  awaited,  in  breathless 
-i  spense,  the  end  of  an  engagement  which  was  to  result  in  their  deliverance  from  an 
i  -ulting,  tyrannical,  and  unprincipled  foe,  or  to  condemn  thctti,  for  an  indefinite  period, 
to  the  presence  and  rulo  of  a  despotic,  marauding,  and  bitterly  despised  enemy, 

Only  He  who  is    love,  and  who  has  fashioned  the  human  heart  with  its  warm,  deep 

affections  and  passions,  to  whose  omniscient  eye  all  things,  from  the  least  to  the  great- 

•  re  plain,  knows  with   what  throbs  of  agony  the  mothers,  sisters  and  wives  of  the 

brave  Southerners  listened  to  the  reverberations  of  the  cannon  and  small  arms  which  were" 

hurling  missiles  <>f  destruction  at  the  breasts  of  those  who  were  near  and  dear  to  them. 

Weak,  pale,  trembling  in  the  seclusion  of  their  ir  .nes  and  the  privacy  of  their  closets, 

■  could  only  weep  and  pray,  yet  through  those  fearful  hours  they  wrestled  with  the 

lluler  of  the  Universe  in  such  an  agony  of  fervent  supplication  as  could  not  fail  of  good 

Its;  and  the  God  o(  battles  fought  that  dav  with  the  Confederate  army. 

At  an  early  hour  of  the  morning,  when  the  struggle  was  but  just  commencing,  Col. 
!'•  iter's  regiment,  which  was  in  the  van  of  the  attacking  army,  was  ordered  to  snpport 
a  i'attery  of  artillery  which  was  planted  on  the  crest  of  a  hill  just  in  the  rear  of  his 
mother's  house,  ar  Heaver  Dam.  The  Cbickahominy,  as  is  well  known,  had  for  several 
weeks  formed  tf.e  line  at  this  point  between  the  two  armies;  and  Reaver  Dam  had, 
therefore,  been  in  the  Yankwc  Hues,  and  had  been  visited  with  the  destruction  and  deso- 
lation that  that  elegant,  cfvilized,  and  humane  people  are  so  fond  of  inflicting.  Colonel 
Poster  had  observed  the  desolation  of  bis  home  and  the  destruction  of  his  property  with 
marked  composure  :  but  when  he  reached  the  graveyard,  where  his  father  was  buried, 
Mtoated  on  the  hill  where  the  Confederate  artillery  was  being  placed  in  position,  and 
«aw  with  what  sacrilege  his  parent's  grave  had  been  visitod  bythe  Yankee  barbarians, 
bis  heart  swellr d  with  strong  emction.    The  wooden  railing  arephd  the  grave  had  been 


.54-  THE  RIVALS : 

consumed  for  fire  wood,  aud  the  marble  slabs  on  which  we.ro  inscribed  t'ie  uam.e  and 
«pitaph,  had  been  used  as  a  hearth — probably  during  a  wotseason — was  cracked  from 
gne  end  to  the  other  by  heat.  The  contemplation  of  this  outrage  excited  in  him  th^ 
Strongest  indignation.  With  a  kindling  eye  and  a  look  of  high  resolve,  he  repeated,  al- 
most unconsciously,  those  fine  lines  from  Marco  Bozzaris : 

"Strike!  till  the  last  armed  foe  exprres, 
Strike !  for  your  altara  and  your  fires ; 
Strike  !  for  the  green  graves  of  your  eirefl ; 
God  and  your  native  land." 

And  in  bis  heart  he  devoted  himself  with  redoubled   ardor  and  devotion  to  the  task 
■    of  delivering  bi6  native  land  from  the  presence  of  the  lawless  vandals. 

When  the  battery  he  was  ordered  to  support  opened  upon  the  enemy,  he  observed 
that  the  pieces  were  not  very  accurately  aimed  ;  and  alter  making  pome  suggestions  to 
the  artillery  officer  in  command,  he  took  out  his  eye  glass  and  carefully  scanned  the 
position  of  the  enemy.  Since  he  and  Walter  had  plavcd  and  hunted  along  the  Beaver 
Dam,  the  woods  bad  all  been  cleared  from  the  sides  of  the  hiils  skirting  the  creek  at  this 
point,  and  the  mill-dam  bad  been  drained,  fcjltyson's  mil!  being  now  worked  by  the  cur- 
rent of  the  stream.  Across  a  meadow,  or  morass,  through  which  th#  Beaver  Dam  Creek 
flowed,  on  a  range  of  lofty  4iills,  the  Yankees  were  posted  behind,  stroug  earth-works. 
and  Col.  Foster  saw  that  the  task  of  dislodging  them  nmst  be  a  bloody  one. 
•  Being  familiar  with  the  ground,  he  was  able  to  calculate  exactly  the  distance  of  th» 
enemy,  and  the  attitude  of  their  postion,  and  he  devoted  his  attention  to  the  working  of 
the  guns  by  which  be  was  stationed,  aud  for  more  tiun  an  hour  stood  beside  his  father^ 
grave  directing  the  fire  of  the  artillerists. 

In  the  meantime  Col.  Maynard's  rGgiment  was  posted  in  the  rifle  nits  above  the  mill, 
immediately  opposite  to  the  hill  upon  which  Charley  was  stationed,  and  under  the  deadly 
fire  of  Confederate  artillery  commanded  and  mostly  aimed  by  Col.  Poster.     A  more  mis- 
•    arable  and  a  more  reckless  man  than  Walter  Maynard,  one  more  indifferent  to  the  issue 
Of  the  battle  and  of  his  own  personal  safety,  did   not  exist  amoug   the  two  vast  hosts 
contending  there  in  deadly  conflict.     Those  green  hills  and. that  bright  summer  morning,, 
.  recalled  memories  aud  awoke  associations   which  wrung  his  heart  with  agony.     While 
he  stood  there  clothed  in  the  Yankee  uniform, and  exposing  his  life  in  the  Federal  cause, 
he  would  have  gladly  sacrificed  fortune  and  fame  to  stand  by  Charley  Foster's  side 
among  that  noble  band  of  self-sacrificing  Southern  patriots,  whose  valor  and  heroism 
challenged  his  respect  and  excited  his  highest  admiration.     Thus,  while  the  deadly  rnis- 
.   3iles  were  flying  around  him,  he  scarcely  needed  them ;  for  conscience,  lately  aroused. 
I    was  lashing  him  with*  a  whip  of  scorpions  for  his  treachery  to  his  friend  and  to  his  coun- 
•  try.     For  some  time  past  he  had  been  oppressed  with  a  fearful  presentiment  of  ap- 
proaching death;  and  while  he  felt  life  to  be  a  burden,  his  soul  recoiled  in  horror  from 
the  thought  of  standing  in  judgment  beforea  just  and  righteous  God.    Torn  by  con- 
i    flicting  emotions,  and  scarcely  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing,  he  exposed  himself  fool- 
1   ishlj  and  unnecessarily  to  the  Confederate  fire;  and  before  the  conflict  had  lasted  an 
hourrhe  was  mortally  wounded  by  the  fragment  of  a  shell,  and  borne  to  the  rear,  i-u  an. 
insensible  condition.    As  soon  as  the  surgeon  had  examined  his  wound  and  pronounced 
it  mortal,  he  was  placed  in  an  ambulance  and  sent  to  the  hospital  at  Fairfield.    The 
house  there  being  already  uncomfortably  full  of  the  wounded  from  the  fight  at  Mechao- 
icsville  the  evening  before,  he  was  placed  by  his  servant  and  the  ambulance  driver  in  a 
little  office  on  the  edge  of  the  yard. 

In  the  meantime,  the  battle  raged  fiercely  at  Ellyson's  mill.  Several  times  the  Con- 
federates attempted  to  carry  the  heights  by  direct  assault;  but  through  the  treacherous 
morass,  and  under  the  murderous  fire  from  the  enemy's  works,  this  was-  found  imprac- 
ticable; they  were  finally  gained  by  a  flank  movement;  not  however  until  many  ft 
brave  soldier  had  there  made  libation  of  his  life's  blood. 


A  CniCKAHOMINY  STORY.  55 

Driver;  \\\.ra  Mechanics  ville  and  Ellvaon's  mill,  the  .Federal  troops  fell  back  some  si* 
or  eight  miles  to  a  strong  position  near  Gaines'  Mill,  where  with  concentrated  forces, 
they  prepare.;  to  make  formidable  resistance  to  the  advance  of  tha  victorious  Confed- 
erates. 

Col,  Foster's  regiment  bod  suffered  considerably  at  Ellyson'a  mill,  but  he  himself  bad 
escaped  unhurt. 

The  did  county  roads  had  been  made  i  in  passable  by  the  Yankee  artillery  and  wagon 
trains  during  the  wet  weather  which  prevailed  for  some  weeks  after  their'  first. occupa- 
tion of  th«:  country  ;  and  in  following  up' the  retreating  enemy,  the  Confederates  were 
obliged  to  proceed  »loti£  a  tine  new  military  road  lately  constructed  by  them.  Tbie 
road  led  immediately  along  the  yard  at. Fairfield,  and  right  under  the  window  of  the 
house  in  which  Col.  Maynaril  was  lying  wounded;  and  wh<m  the  Southern  army 
passed,  many  an  eye  was  directed  to   where  the  mangled  body  of  the  dying  renegade 

Seeing  so  many  eyea  turned  in  that  direction.  Col.  Foster  rode  up  to  tne  window  anci 
looked  in.  To  his  shrpri.se  be  recognised,  in  the  ghastly  face  and  bloody  form  before 
him,  his  former  i'riemj  and  late  enemy.  Walter  Maynard.  Calling  to  the  surgeon  of  bin 
regiment  to  follow  him,  he  dismounted  and  entered  the  bouse, 

Approaching  the  cot,  he  took  hold  of  the  cold,  bloody  hand  of  his  friend  of  better 
days,  and  gi  nlly  uttered  his  name. 

But  there  was  no  sign  of  recognition  or  consciousness  in  the  still,  palo  face  of  the 
sufferer.  Winn  the  m'rgeon  had  examined  his  wounds,  he  assured  Col.  Foster  that  they 
were  mortal  :   lie  would  scarcely  survive  twenty-four  hours. 

'Poor  Walter,,'  said  Charley,  wiping  off  a  tear  which  had  gathered  in  his  eye,  '  E 
would  like  t o  have  him  call  my  name  ami  clasp  my  hand  once  more  as  in  the  good  oM 
days  when  wo  were  boys.  J)  0  you  think  that  he  will  return  to  consciousness  again  be- 
fore he  di 

The  surg<  on  replied  that,  it.  was  highly  probable,  as  the  brain  was  not  affected  by  the 
wound,  except  Prom  the  shock  which  the  whole  system  had  received   from    the  tretnjn-  ' 
dous  force  01  the  missile. 

Finding  that  « el.  Maynard's  servant  had  forsaken  him,  Col.  Foster  left  bis*  own  man 
with  him,  with  directions  to  make  him  as  comfortable  aa  possible,  and  hurried  onto  join 
his  regiment,  which  a  few  hours  later  was  in  the  hottest  of  the  action  at,  Gaines'  mill. 
Here,  after  a  desperate  struggle,  the  Gen  federate  aims  were  again  suecessutl. 

It  was  night,  and  the  battle  was  over.  The  cannon  which  had  been  thundering  BO 
fiercely  all  day,  now  rested,  grim  and  Silent,  upon  the  field  ot  death  ;  ami  the  muske!<J, 
whose  ceaseless  mttle  had  ("or  so  many  hours  filled  the  air  with  their  deafening  roar, 
•now  lay  scattered,  as  powerless  as  the  bands  that  had  wielded  them,  upon  the  bloody 
ground,  or  were  stacked  where  the  weary  troops  bad  bivouacked  after  their  fearful  wo^k 
of  carnage.  As  the  summer  moon,  pale  and  calm,  looked  down  upon  the  white  racesj 
the  bloody  forms,  and  the  glazed  eyes  which  had  looked  their  lust,  scattered  through  the 
forests,  along  the  hiihsidea,  and  over  the  plains  of  that  hotly-contested  field,  no  sound 
disturbed  the stillness  of  night,  save  the  groans  and  cries  of  the  wounded  and  dying. 
Where  so  lately  thousands  had  rushed  along  in  the  impetuous  charge,  there  was  now  u  > 
sign  of  life,  save  the  few  gray,  dusky  figures  that  glide;!  about  in  the  moonlight,  seek- 
ing for  missing  comrades,  or  bearing  them,  when  found  alive,  to  an  ambulance  or 
wagon,  that  they  might  be  taken  to  the  field  hospitals. 

The  battle  had  been  fought  and  won  by  the  Confederates,  who  had  thus  gained  tb<» 
key  to  McClellan's  position,  cut  him  off  from  his  base  of  supplies,  aud  driven  his  right 
wing  in  upon  his  left,  leaving  him  no  alternative  but  to  surrender  unconditionally  or 
retreat  as  rapidly  us  possible  to  the  James.  There  was  yet  much  hard- fighting  before 
the  Southern  patriots  iu  following  up  the  still  powerful  and  formidable  foe;  hut  the 
battle  of  Gaines'  mill  had  decided  the  fate  of  the  capital,  and  Bidm  i/Jt. 

With  a  gallantry  unsurpassed  by  that  of  auy  other  officer  ou  the  field,  Colonel  Foster 


50  •  THE  EIVfLLS: 

fought  unscathed  through  the  whole  buttle,  Until  its  close,  when  In  pursuit  of  the  flying 
enemy  he  had  his  left  arm  fractured  by  a  minie  ball.  The  fracture,  though  not  suffi- 
cient to  require  amputatioi.,  was  severe,  and  the  surgeon,  on  binding  up  the  wound, 
charged  him  to  keep  very  quiet  for  several. weeks,  and  repeated  the  charge  when  he  had 
Seen  hitxi  seated  in  the  am  balance  which  was  to  take  him  to  Richmond.  On  reaching 
Fairfield,  and  finding  Walter  still  alive,  he  determined,  although  he  knew  it  would  be 
Hmprudent  to  do  so,  to  stop  there  and  remain,  with  him  while  he  lived. 

On  entering  the  room  he  found  Ma'ynard  asleep,  but  the  servant  who  was  wiOn 
him  informed  his  master  that  he  had  been  awake  and  entirely  sensible  during 
the  whole  afternoon ;  that  he  knew  where  he  was,  had  spoken  of  his  wound, 
and  had  listened  with  great  interest  to  the  progress  of  the  battle;  and  that  that 
evening  when  the  firing  had  ceased,  he  bade  him  ask  a  courier  who  was  passing, 
which  side  had  whipped.  Being  told  that  the  Confederates  were  victorious,  he 
raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  said  'Thank  God.' 

The  whispering  around  the  couch  of  the  wounded  man,  who  was  only  dozing 
uneasily,  aroused  him,  and  he  asked  for  water. 

Colonel  Foster  had  a  little  flask  of  brandy  with  him,  and  pouring  some  into  a 
cup,  held  it  to  Walter's  lips,  who  drank  it  eagerly  without  seeming  to  no.ticc  by 
whom  it  was  proffered;  but  when  he  had  swallowed  it  he  looked  up,  and,  recog- 
nizing Col.  Foster,  grasped  his  hand  and  said  trcnivdously,  while  tears  sprang  to 
his  eyes,  '  Charley,  is  it  you  ?'  • 

'Yes,  "Walter,'  said  Charley,  warmly  returning  the  pressure,  '  it  is  I,  can  I  do 
anything  for  you  ?' 

'I  don't  deserve  your  kindness.'  said  Walter  ;  ;  I  never  did,  for  1  always' re- 
paid it  with  ingratitude  and  treachery;  but  1  will  not  have  another  chance  .to 
wrong  you;  1  am  dying  fast.  Dyinga'  he  repeated,  'in  the  land  which  gave  me 
birth  and  nurtured  me  to  manhood,  that  I  might  in  my  manhood's  strength  come 
against  her  writh  a  marauding  host,  to  devastate  and  destroy*  to  subject  her 
daughters  to  insult  and  her  sons  to  bondage — dying,'  he  groaned,  •  alone  with 
the  man  whose  happiness  T  have  treacherously  wrecked  in  return  for  unnum- 
bered kindnesses.     Charley,  don't  you  despise  me?' 

'No,  Walter,'  responded  Charley,  'I  do  not;  hut  I  do,  indeed,  pity  yon.' 

*  But  you„do  not  know  the  worst.'  he  replied,  '  I  know  you  were  always  gene- 
rous and  forgiving;  but  arc  you  a  Christian  ?  Can  you  forgive  one  who  has  "de- 
liberately and  foully  wrongf-d  you — one  who  has  blighted  the  dearest  hope  of 
vour  life  ? 

'  I  believe  I  am  r,  Christian,1  solemnly  replied  Charley.  '  and  that,  by  the  grae* 
of  God,  I  could  forgive  such  an  one,  especially  if  he  were  repentant.' 

'Well,'  said  Walter  feebly,  'do  you  remember  Bob  Harrison's  murder?' 

'  f  have  very  good  reasons  to  do  so,'  was  the  reply. 

'  Can  you  pardon  me  then,  when  I  tell  you  that  when  you  were  being  tried  for 
{hat  crime,  I  had  almost  positive  evidence  that  it  was  committed  by  Le  Brun,  and 
yet  withheld  it  for  the  sake  of  prejudicing  Miss  Gardiner  and  her  family  against 
you?     Did  you  think  me  as  base  ?' 

i I  did  not,'  responded  Col.  Foster  frankly  ;  '  but  I  forgives  you,  as  I  hope  to  be 
forgiven  by  my  Creator  for  my  manifold  transgressions.' 

CI  sincerely  thank  you,  my  dear  old  friend;  but  do  you  think  there  is  a  chance 
of  my  forgiveness  with  God  ?' 

'He  has  said,'  repeated  Col.  Foster  devoutly,  that  'he  that  cometh  unto  me  I 
will  in  no  wise  cast  out,'  and  'though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  4hey  shall  be 
white  as  snow.' 

f  Then  pray  for  me,'  said  the  dying  man,  '  for  I  have  never  yet  learned  to  pray 
for  mvself.' 


A  CHICKAHOMINY  STORY.  57 

iCneelinp  down  by  the  rude  pallet,  in  the  solemn  moonlight,  Charley  prayed 
long,  fervently  and  eloquently  for  the  su  fie  ring  and  penitent  man  before  him. 

When  he  had  finished.  Walter  thanked  him.  and  pointing  through  the  open 
window  to  a  dark  belt  of  forest  bounding  a  moonlit  plain,  said:  '  Charley,  1 
think  t  am  going  to  die  to-night,  and  I  wish  you  to  have  me  buried  in  those 
woods — not  on  the  edge,  but  in  the  very  centre  of  them— so  much  out  of  the 
way,  that  none  will  take  the  trouble  to  go  there  and  scoff  at  the  grave  of  the 
trajtor  and  renegade.  And  you  need  not  trduble  yourself  about  a  coffin  ;  just 
wrap  my  blanket  about  me — man)-  a  better  man  has  had  no  better  burial  since 
this  accursed  war.' 

'  Whatever  you  wish  shall  be  done,'  said  Charley,  pressing  the  cold  hand  he 
held  in  his  owu. 

But  Col.  Maynard  did  not  die  that  night,  though  he  grew  so  much  worse,  and 
suffered  so  intensely,  that  Col.  Foster  did  not  expect  him  to  live  until  morning. 
Mis  wounds  became  so  painful  that  his  whole  frame  was  at  times  convulsed  with 
is  of  agony,  while  his  eyes  seemed  to  start  from  their  sockets,  and  the  foam 
exuded  from  his  mouth  through  the  firmly  sot  teeth.  His  mind  too  wandered. 
■Jiid  his  delirious  ravings,  betrayed  to  Charley  what  had  been  his  state  of  mind  of 
late.  However,  about  noon  the  ne\L  day  he  grew  oa-y  and  composed,  and  was 
perfectly  conscious,  though  his  feeble  pulge  and  difficult  breathing  (old  that  his 
hours  were  numbered.  Charley's  wound  had.  horn  fatigue,  excitement  and  want 
Of  sleep,  become  very  painful  ;  ar.d  for  several  hours  he  had  been  suffering  in- 
tensely with  it.  but  he  resolved  to  remain  with  Maynard  to  the  last. 

When  Stuart's  cavalry,  on  the  evening  of  the  the  'JTth  had  made  their  dash  on 
the  White  House,  a  member  of  Bernard  Gardiner's  company  hail  gone  by  Mr. 
Uarnson's  and  informed  Ins  mother  and  sister  that  lie  had  been  severely  wounded 
iu  a  skirmish  some  weeks  before,  and  was  then  lying  in  a  critical  condition  at  a 
friend's  house  in  Richmond.  As  soon  as  they  heard  this  they  rcs'olved  to  go-to 
him  as  soon  as  the  way  might  be  open,  and  learning  tin1  next  morning  that  the 
Yankees  had  been  driven  across  the  Chickahominy,  they  set  off  for  Richmond. 
The  journey  was  attended  with  many  difficulties,  for  the  road  in  many  places  was 
so  cut  up  by  the  Yankee  wagon  trains,  as  to  be  almost  impassable;  when  they 
ed  the  section  of  country  which  had  been  occupied  by  the  enemy's  camps. 
» hey  found  its  aspect  so  changed  by  the  general  desolation  which  prevailed,  as  to 
be  scarcely  recognizable,  and  it  .was  with  difficulty  they  could  find  their  way 
amor.g  the  numerousroads  branching  off  in  all  directions.  In  the  neighborhood 
of  tl  e  battle-field,  too,  they  frequently  found  the  Toad  completely  blocked  Dp 
bj  the  Confederate  wagons  and  ambulances,  and  by  the  crowds  of  slightly 
wounded  who  were  flocking  in  the  direction  id"  Richmond.  About  noon  the} 
od  Fairfield,  and  were  brought  to  a  stand  by  a  wagon  train  which  halted 
head  of  them.  The  driver  had  stopped  their  carriage  beside  a  pump  at  the 
end  c:~  the  small  house  occupied  by  Charily  and  Walter,  and  was  watering  his 
horses,  which  were  much  jaded.  Around  this  pump  a  number  of  wounded  sol- 
diers were  standing.  Mrs.  Gardiner  approaching)  enquired  if  a  hospital  had 
been  established  here?  one  ofthe  soldiers  replied  in  the  affirmative.  V 
thereupon  proposed  that  they  should  scud  their  servant  in  to  see  whether  any 
of  their  friends  were  among  the  wounded  in  the  house. 

Walter  was  lying  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  seemed  sinking  fast  :    but  at  the 
i  of  Nellie's  voice  he  raised  himself  up  in  a  half-sitting  posture,  and 
••laitred,  'I  am  sure  1  know  that  voice.     Tsn't  it  Nellie  Gardinei 

('barley  nodded  affirmatively.  ,  • 

'  Well,  then,  beg  her,  for  Heaven's  sake,  to  come  here  instantlv :  I  have  some- 


53  XHB  RIVALS: 

thing  of  importance  to  t>ay  to  her;  bring  Uer  quickly,  for  1  have  neatly  run  ay 
race.'  k 

Charley  hurried  out  to  the  carriage,  and  after  saluting  the  ladies,  said :  '  Mis** 
Gardiner,  Walter  Maynard  is  here  dying,  and  wishes  to  see  you  for  a  momer.i,' 

'Col.  Maynard,  the  traitor  and  renegade,5  exclaimed  Mrs.  Gardiner  indignantly. 

Seeing  that  Nellie  hesitated,  Col.  Foster  held  out  his  hand  to  assist  her  from 
the  carriage,  at  the  same  time  saying,  '  For  the  love  of  mercy,  grant  his  request. 
Miss  Gardiner,  he  is  dying  an  awful  death,  gnd  is  deeply  repentant.' 

Nellie  hesitated  no  longer,  and  Mrs.  Gardiner,  for  the  sake  of  propriety1?  fol- 
lowed her. 

When  Miss  Gardiner  approached  Col.  Maynard's  side  and  held  out  her  hand 
to  him,  he  seized  it  eagerly  and  said,  'Thank  you  for  coming  to  me.  I  know 
that  you  must  despise  me;  but  I  am  willing  to  bear  your  scorn  that  I  may  atone, 
as  far  as  possible,  for  the  wrong  1  have  done.  Charley  Foster  was  as  innocent 
as  an  unborn  babe  of  your  Cousin  Robert's  murder.  Victor  Le  Brun  was  the 
murderer;,  and  I  knew  it,  but  would  not  say  so,  for  I  wished  you  to  believe 
Charley  guilty.' 

He  was  all  this  time  holding  Nellie's  hand,  and  at  this  point  he  called  Charley 
to  him.  and  taking  his  hand  placed  Nellie's  in  it.  Gazing  earnestly  at  them  for 
some  moments,  he  said,  k  I  separated  you  once,  0,  let  me  have  the  cynsolation 
now  of  re-uniting  you.  Renew  your  troth  to  him,  Nellie;  he  has  always  been 
true  to  you.' 

Nellie  blushed  and  was  silent  for  some  moments,  then  raising  her  eyes  she  di- 
rected a  modest  glance  of  inquiry  at  Col.  Foster,  who  was  gazing  at  her 
eagerly.  , 

'Do  you  desire  it V  she  asked. 

'  With  all  my  heart,'  was  the  eager  i<;spons«. 

'  Then,  sir,  I  again>give  you  my  hand,  and  with  it  the  same  warm  affection-  I 
have  always* cherished  for  you.' 

Transported  beyond  measure,  Col.  Foster  knelt  at  her  feet  and  covered  the 
tiny  hand  with  kisses. 

•  Thank  God,'  ejaculated  Maynard  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

The  words  had  scarcely  escaped  his  lips  when  he  was  seized  with  another  pa- 
roxysm ;  his  body  was  contorted  with  agony ;  the  purple  nails  dug  into  the  white 
palms  of  his  clenched  hands,  and  his  teeth  were  buried  in  his  pale,  bluish  lips. 
But  suddenly  the  contracted  muscles  relaxed;  a  few  gasps  parted  the'  lips  of  the 
dying  man,  and  then  all  wras  over.  He  fell  back  upon  the  couch  a  corpse.  He 
had  sinned  and  suffered  his  last  on  earth. 

When  Mrs.  Gardiner  returned  to  her  carriage,  she  invited  Col.  Foster  to  accom- 
pany them  to  Richmond,  as  there  was  no  longer  anything  to  detain  him  at  Fair- 
field. After  he  had  given  a  few  directions  to  his  servant  in  regard  to  the  burial 
of  Col.  Maynard,  he  accepted  her  invitation  and  they  proceeded  on  their  way  to 
flichmond. 

Seated  once  more  by  Nellie's  side,  be  forgot  for  the  moment  the  scenes  of  horror  and 
danger  through  which  he  had  lately  passed ;  he  scarcely  felt  the  pain  of  his  wound, 
which  a  short  time  since  was  so  severe  ;  but  when  be  bad  arrived  at  his  hotel,  and_  w*s 
no  longer  in  her  charmed  presence,  he  became  conscious  of  a  most  excruciating  pain  Kx 
his  fractured  member.  His  wound  indeed  proved  very  severe,  and  for  several  weeks 
the  surgeons  feared  that  amputation  would  be  inevitable.  He  received  every  attention 
that  friends  could  bestow,  and  through  their  tender  nursing,  in  a  few  weeks,  recovered 
without  the  loss  of  his  arm.  During  his  illness,  Mrs  Gardiner,  who  was  now  recon- 
ciled to  the  idea  of  his  becoming  her  son-in-law,  especially  as  since  the  battle  of  Gained 
mill  he  had  been  raised  to  the  rank  of  brigadier-general,  sent  every  day  to  enquire  after 


'  At  Appoint  U  called  CW^fo  I  .v,>  ;„  {>*  &, 


■ 


A  CHICK AKOMJNY  STORY.  '        $j 

him  ;  and  she  and  Nellie  and  Bernard,  as  soon  as  the  ia.it.er  was  able  to  ride  out,  called 
.frequently  to  s«e  him.  In  tbo  society  of  Lis  old  friends,  Charley  was  so  happy  that  he 
.scarcely  remembered  that  a  cruel  and  desolating  war  was  raging  in  the  laud  ;  and  the 
battles  of  Cedar  Euu  and  second  Manassas  seemed  to  him,  from  the  published  accounts 
he  read  of  them,  as  unreal  aj;  dreams.  But  at  the  battle  of  Sbarpsburg  bo  was  again  in 
the  saddle,  and  at  the  head  of  his  gallant  brigade  battled  maufully  for  the  land  of  his 
birth.  And  again  in  December  he  participated  in  another  battle,  that  of  Fredericks- 
burg, where  be  reseived  a  very  slight  flesh  wound,  just  severe  enough,  he  thought,  to 
justify  him  in  getting  a  thirty-days'  leave  of  absence.  Iudeed,  had  he  not  received  any 
wound  he  would  have  asked  for  and  obtained  a  furlough,  for  Nellie  bad  consented  to 
make  bin:  the  happiest  of  men,  and  December  25th  had  been  selected  as  the  wedding 
day. 

On  that  Christmas  evening  there  was  a  quiet  wedding  at  Fairfield;  indeed,  it  would, 
have  been  almost  ■£  solemn  wedding  if  the  bride,  in  her  simple  robe  of  muslin  and 
wreaths  of  orange  flowers,  and  the  groom,  iu  his  handsome  prey  uniform,  had  not  looked 
pcrlatively  happy.  There  were  but  few  persons  present,  and  beaux  were  particu- 
larly scarce  ;  for  many  who  would  otherwise  have  graced  the  scene  with  their  presence, 
were  sleeping  their  last  sleep  on  the  battle-fields  of  Gaines'  Mill,  Malvern  Hill,  Man  a— 
-as  and  Shaipsburg  ;  while  many  more  were  on  this  Christmas  evening  sitting  around 
the  camp  fire,  talking  of  the  happy  past, and  regaling  themselves  with  the  coarse  fare  of 
the  soldier.  So  the  ladies  had  to  find  such  amusement  as  they  could  iu  ea<  h  other's  so- 
ciety :  for  the  brave  southern  boys  were  payiug  their  homage  at  another  shrine,  th*- 
same  at  which  Marion  of  the  first  revolution  paid  his — like  him  they  were  in  love,  and 
their  'sweetheart  was  liberty.' 

Many  a  sigh  was  given,  in  the  midst  of  this  mirthful  scene,  for  the  absent ;  and  as  tho 

sweet  notes  of  mcriy  mu^ic  arose  through  the  rooms,  many  among  the  guests  romom- 

]  how  recently  the  thunder  of  battle  had  rent  the  air  around  them,  and  thought, 

with  a  shudder,  that  under  the  bright  carpets  over  which  they  trod  so  lightly  the  floors 

were  yet  purple  with  human  bloodi 

Altogether,  it  was  not  a  very  gay  wedding  ;  but  Charley  and  Nellie  thought  that,  not- 
withstanding there  were  so  many  of  the  attending  circumstances  that  might  hava  been 
>ved,  it  was  the  very  happiest  they  had  ever  known. 

THE    BSD. 


s 


